If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, <br />Injurious distance should not stop my way; <br />For then despite of space I would be brought, <br />From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. <br />No matter then although my foot did stand <br />Upon the farthest earth removed from thee; <br />For nimble thought can jump both sea and land <br />As soon as think the place where he would be. <br />But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, <br />To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, <br />But that, so much of earth and water wrought, <br />I must attend time's leisure with my moan, <br /> Receiving nought by elements so slow, <br /> But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-44-if-the-dull-substance-of-my-flesh-were/
