Thursday, November 19, 2009
SWEETEST of sweets, I thank you when displeasure
Did through my body wound my minde,
You took me thence ; and in your house of pleasure
A daintie lodging me assign'd.
Now I in you without a bodie move,
Rising and falling with your wings :
We both together sweetly live and love,
Yet say sometimes, God help poore Kings.
Comfort, 'Ile ; for if you poste from me,
Sure I shall do so, and much more :
But if I travell in your companie,
You know the way to heavens doore.
"Here was a man who seemed to me to excel all the authors
I had read in conveying the very quality of life as we live it
from moment to moment, but the wretched fellow, instead
of doing it all directly, insisted on mediating it through
what I still would have called the "Christian mythology."
The upshot of it all could nearly be expressed, "Christians
are wrong, but all the rest are bores."
-C. S. Lewis