Oh Blessed Day of Holy Days!!
Thursday, and not a moment too soon. I feel relieved. My plan today is to relax, get through the next five hours and get home safely.Apart from that, my mind is pretty much porridge. So, rather than write anything, I'll share a poem.
SONNET 132
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the sober west,
As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
O, let it then as well beseem thy heart
To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
And suit thy pity like in every part.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
-William Shakespeare
2 Comments:
There you are. I finally figured this thing out. Thanks for the welcome. You were my first- a cherry.
You're welcome :) Feel free to drop by in the furture now that you know the way.
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