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Young Writers Society


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While you ponder this, enjoy a poem:


Sonnet 44 (Shakespeare) (1609)
by William Shakespeare

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.


“Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number. Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you— Ye are many—they are few.”
— Mary Shelly