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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-03-23 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en romana] | Inscrit à la bibliotèque par Antal Adrian
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.
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