It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you
will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and
gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed-Got
deliver to a joyful resurrections!
It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you
will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and
gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed-Got
deliver to a joyful resurrections!
The other two, slight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
It provokes the desire but it takes away the performance. Therefore much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery it makes him and it mars him it sets him on and it takes him off.
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
Nor are mine cars with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone;
But my five wits, nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
This is the monstrosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite and the execution confined that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh-no dull flesh-in his fiery race.
His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end;
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,
As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:
His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire,
Shows his hot courage and his high desire.
Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories