Tuesdays

Had back to back classes during 9:15 a.m.–5:55 p.m., will be in class again at 9 a.m. tomorrow.  All of which, ofcourse, helps me stay indoors, warm and out of the winter’s way.  Today’s sonnet:

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CXL

  Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press

  My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;

  Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express

  The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

  If I might teach thee wit, better it were,

  Though not to love, yet, love to tell me so;--

  As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,

  No news but health from their physicians know;--

  For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,

  And in my madness might speak ill of thee;

  Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,

  Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.

    That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

    Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

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The lest at the beginning of line 3, the yet in line 6, the though in the final line.  Beautiful simile in lines 7–8, and a beautiful poem overall.  I wish I had enough energy left today to appreciate it better  L  More tomorrow.