|
|
These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) Forum is at classicalmusicforums.com.
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 Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=23 .
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:
CXLIX Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, When I against myself with thee partake? Do I not think on thee, when I forgot Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy sake? Who hateth thee that I do call my friend, On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon, Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend Revenge upon myself with present moan? What merit do I in my self respect, That is so proud thy service to despise, When all my best doth worship thy defect, Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind,; Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind. --William Shakespeare
O heart, we are old; The living beauty is for younger men: We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears. -Yeats, W.B., 1918
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.
LVIII That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand the account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure! O! let me suffer, being at your beck, The imprison'd absence of your liberty; And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check, Without accusing you of injury. Be where you list, your charter is so strong That you yourself may privilage your time To what you will; to you it doth belong Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime. I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well. --William Shakespeare
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
Tis done. We have become a nation. Benjamin Rush, on the ratification of the Constitution, letter to Boudinot, July 9, 1788