If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought
I must attend time's leisure with my moan,
Receiving nought by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
Shakespeare'sQuill.co.uk
Is anyone afraid of Virginia Woolf? Whatever became of Baby Jane? These are just some things you won't find out here.
Book: 'The Seven Against Thebes' - Aeschylus.
Sounds: Synaulia.
TV: Up the Women.
Subject: Russian (Unit 4).
Site: The Ministry of Burlesque.
Wiki: Ancient Rome.
Project: Sequin Studio.
Dailies: Arkadina | Pepys | Chaucer | Bronte | MedievalSoc.
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Jolyon Foryste: Why were we born young? If only we were born older and grew younger, we'd understand how things happen and we'd drop all this damned intolerance.
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