How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made by looking on thee in the living day, when in dead night thy fair imperfect shade through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
To me, fair Friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed
So are you to my thoughts as food to life
Or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As twix’t a miser and his wealth is foun
`Now proud as an enjoyer, and ano
`Doubting the filching age will his treasure
Now counting best to be with you alone
Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight
And by and by clean starved for a look
Possessing or pursuing no delight
Save what is had or must from you be took
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day
Or gluttoning on all, or all away