Poetry
heals the wounds inflicted by reason – Novalis, German Poet
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Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Shakespeare's Sonnets-37: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame...
Those hours, that with gentle work
did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth
dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very
same
And that unfair which fairly doth
excel;
For never-resting time leads summer
on
To hideous winter, and confounds him
there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty
leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every
where:
Then were not summer's distillation
left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of
glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were
bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it
was:
But flowers distill'd, though they with winter
meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still
lives sweet.
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