Author: Shakespeare's Hamlet (---.client.insightBB.com)
Date: 02-10-03 14:06
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Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head;
Ere beauty\'s dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, itself and true,
Making no summer of another\'s green,
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjur\'d, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoy\'d no sooner but despised straight;
Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
Past reason hated, as a swallow\'d bait,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad:
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest, to have extreme;
A bliss in proof,-- and prov\'d, a very woe;
Before, a joy propos\'d; behind a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
No Christian and, indeed, no historian could accept the epigram which defines religion as \'what a man does with his
C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory