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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

The beauty of life, is that you don\'t have to be modernly beautiful to live it.

- C.S. Lewis, In Beauty

LIX



If there be nothing new, but that which is

Hath been before, how are our brains beguil\'d,

Which labouring for invention bear amiss

The second burthen of a former child!

O! that record could with a backward look,

Even of five hundred courses of the sun,

Show me your image in some antique book,

Since mind at first in character was done!

That I might see what the old world could say

To this composed wonder of your frame;

Wh\'r we are mended, or wh\'r better they,

Or whether revolution be the same. 

  O! sure I am the wits of former days,

  To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

 	--William Shakespeare