As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crownèd sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store.
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
12And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee.
This wish I have, then ten times happy me.
William Shakespeare
Praeterea, puto arma nuclearia Persiae delenda esse