Sonnet 44
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,Injurious distance should not stop my way;For then despite of space I would be brought,From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did standUpon the farthest earth remov'd from thee;For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,But that so much of earth and water wrought,I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slowBut heavy tears, badges of either's woe.