The former post was deleted as it violated our user agreement, or it did not add to the "Great Books" conversation in a constructive manner.

The new Francis Bacon Forum may be found at http://westerncanon.com/bookforums/forumdisplay.php?f=58 .

To foster quality discussion forums throughout Western Canon, from now on only registered members may post. Spam will not be tolerated. If you would like to help moderate, please contact "jolly roger ship @ yahoo . com".

Please register at http://westerncanon.com/bookforums to post in the future.

We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:

LXXVI

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from variation or quick change?
Why with the time do I not glance aside
To new-found methods, and to compounds strange?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
O! know sweet love I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent:
  For as the sun is daily new and old,
  So is my love still telling what is told.
 	--William Shakespeare

The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources. --Albert Einstein

It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation.

In the future, please register and make all posts to http://westerncanon.com/bookforums,

and/or join the forums at Great Books & Philosophy Forums @ jollyrogerwest.com.

XIX

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men. 
  Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
  My love shall in my verse ever live young.
 	--William Shakespeare

All The Best,

William Einstein Shakespeare :)

XLV

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.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life, being made of four, with two alone
Sinks down to death, oppress'd with melancholy;
Until life's composition be recur'd
By those swift messengers return'd from thee,
Who even but now come back again, assur'd,
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
  This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
  I send them back again, and straight grow sad.
 	--William Shakespeare