Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conqueft of thy fight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's fight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead, that thou in him doft lie,
(A closet never pierc'd with crystal eyes,)
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And fays in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impannelled
A queft of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part:
As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part,
And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other :
When that mine eye is famifh'd for a look,
Or heart in love with fighs himself doth fmother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart:
Another time mine eye is my heart's gueft,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyfelf away art prefent ftill with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canft move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee;
Or if they fleep, thy picture in my fight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under trueft bars to thrust,
That, to my use, it might unused stay
From hands of falfhood, in fure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Moft worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou, beft of deareft, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any cheft,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle clofure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou may'st come and part;
And even thence thou wilt be stolen I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I fhall fee thee frown on my defects,
Whenas thy love hath caft his utmost fum,
Call'd to that audit by advis'd refpects,
Against that time, when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that fun, thine eye,
When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reafons find of fettled gravity,
Against that time do I enfconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own defert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou haft the ftrength of laws,
Since, why to love, I can allege no cause.
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I feek,-my weary travel's end,-
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
"Thus far the miles are meafur'd from thy friend!"
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by fome instìnct the wretch did know
His rider lov'd not speed, being made from thee:
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
That fometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than fpurring to his fide;
For that fame
groan doth put this in my mind,
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
Thus can my love excuse the flow offence
dull bearer, when from thee I speed: From where thou art why should I hafte me thence? Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excufe will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can feem but flow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion fhall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore defire, of perfect love being made,
Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his firy race;
But love, for love, thus fhall excuse my jade;
Since from thee going he went wilful flow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
So am I as the rich, whofe blessed key
Can bring him to his fweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feafts fo folemn and fo rare,
Since feldom coming, in the long year fet,
Like ftones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you, as my cheft,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special-blest,
By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
Bleffed are you, whofe worthiness gives fcope,
Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.
What is your fubftance, whereof are you made,
That millions of ftrange fhadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every fhadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty fet,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring, and foizon of the year;
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear,
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have fome part,
But you like none, none you, for conftant heart.
O how much more doth beauty beauteous feem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that fweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on fuch thorns, and play as wantonly
When fummer's breath their masked buds difclofes.
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade;
Die to themselves. Sweet rofes do not fo;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
And fo of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verfe diftills your truth.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, fhall out-live this powerful rhime;
But
you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unfwept stone, besmear'd with fluttish time.
When wasteful war fhall ftatues overturn,
And broils root out the works of masonry,
Nor Marfis fword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all pofterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
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