Sonnet LXXV

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,	1
Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;	2
And for the peace of you I hold such strife	3
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;	4
Now proud as an enjoyer and anon	5
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,	6
Now counting best to be with you alone,	7
Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;	8
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight	9
And by and by clean starved for a look;	10
Possessing or pursuing no delight,	11
Save what is had or must from you be took.	12
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,	13
Or gluttoning on all, or all away.	14