Gentle Sir Philip Sidney, thou knew'st what belong'd to a scholler; thou knew'st what pains, what toil, what travail conduct to perfection.
6.30.2009
Is that a sliver of light along the floor?
Love is wild for reasons, and hope though short in sight-- Might be the only thing that brings you back to life-- for a moment I thought I saw your eyelids rise--
"I am grown at length to see into the vanity of the world more than ever I did, and now I condemn myself for nothing so much as playing the dolt in print . . . . There is nothing that if a man list he may not wrest or pervert. I cannot forbid any to think villainously, Sed caveat emptor, let the interpreter beware; for none ever heard me make allegories of an idle text."
No comments:
Post a Comment