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XIX



Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion\'s paws,

And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;

Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger\'s jaws,

And burn the long-liv\'d phoenix, in her blood;

Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,

And do whate\'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,

To the wide world and all her fading sweets;

But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:

O! carve not with thy hours my love\'s fair brow,

Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;

Him in thy course untainted do allow

For beauty\'s pattern to succeeding men. 

  Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,

  My love shall in my verse ever live young.

 	--William Shakespeare

CXXXIX



O! call not me to justify the wrong

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;

Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:

Use power with power, and slay me not by art,

Tell me thou lov\'st elsewhere; but in my sight,

Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:

What need\'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might

Is more than my o\'erpress\'d defence can bide?

Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows

Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;

And therefore from my face she turns my foes,

That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:

  Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, 

  Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

 	--William Shakespeare

Life is eating us up. We all shall be fables presently. Keep cool: it will be all one a hundred years hence. -- Ralph Waldo
Emerson