I BADE, because the wick and oil are spent
And frozen are the channels of the blood,
My discontented heart to draw content
From beauty that is cast out of a mould
In bronze, or that in dazzling marble appears,
Appears, but when wc have gone is gone again,
Being more indifferent to our solitude
Than 'twere an apparition. O heart, we are old;
The living beauty is for younger men:
We cannot pay its rribute of wild tears.
Lawlz page from my personal itinerary for an upcoming vaca. (This is what happens when your friend learns real magic from working at Make-a-Wish. @crousecm, you’re a wizard!) (Taken with Instagram)
