Posted by: Grazia Maria Angela Comandatore
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
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Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear 't that th' opposèd may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear but few thy voice.
Take each man's censure but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy--rich, not gaudy,
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls,
For stony limits cannot hold loe out,
And what love can do, that dares not love attempt.
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
Had I but served my God with half the zeal. I served my king, he would not in mine age. Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Curse your eyes!
They have bewitched and divided me.
One half of me is yours, the other half is yours -
mine, I should have said - but if mine, then yours,
and so I'm all yours!
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night.
And why not death, rather than living torment?
To die is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her,
Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon;
She is my essence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life
Thus with a kiss... I die.