William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet XLIV
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 remov'd 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.
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