If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out <br /> <br />If your tired unspeaking head <br />Rivet the dark with linear sight, <br />Crazed by a warlock with his curse <br />Dreamed up in some loquacious bed, <br />And if the stage-dark head rehearse <br />The fifth act of the closing night, <br /> <br />Why, cut it off, piece after piece, <br />And throw the tough cortex away, <br />And when you've marvelled on the wars <br />That wove their interior smoke its way, <br />Tear out the close vermiculate crease <br />Where death crawled angrily at bay.<br /><br />Allen Tate<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/homily-2/
