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

The new Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=22 .

To foster quality discussion forums throughout Classicals.com, 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://classicalmusicforums.com to post in the future.

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

Any extraordinary degree of beauty in man or woman involves a moral charm. -Emerson, Worship

It may affront the military-minded person to suggest a reqime that does not maintain any military secrets. -- Albert Einstein

It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.

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

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

CXXXIX

O! call not me to justify the wrong
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
  Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, 
  Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.
 	--William Shakespeare

All The Best,

William Einstein Shakespeare :)

V

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
  But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
  Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
 	--William Shakespeare