terça-feira, setembro 05, 2006


"I wonder by my troth, what thou and I did, till we loved?

Were we not wean'd till then? But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den?

'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be;
If ever any beauty I did see, which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
And now good-morrow to our waking souls, which watch not one another out of fear;

For love all love of other sights controls, and makes one little room an everywhere.

Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown;
Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, and true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres without sharp north, without declining west?

Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally;
If our two loves be one,
or
thou and I love so alike that none can slacken, none can die."