Sonnet CXXXVII
|
|
Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, | 1
That they behold, and see not what they see? | 2
They know what beauty is, see where it lies, | 3
Yet what the best is take the worst to be. | 4
If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks | 5
Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride, | 6
Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, | 7
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? | 8
Why should my heart think that a several plot | 9
Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? | 10
Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not, | 11
To put fair truth upon so foul a face? | 12
In things right true my heart and eyes have erred, | 13
And to this false plague are they now transferr'd. | 14
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|