Thou
blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
That they behold, and
see not what they see?
They know what beauty
is, see where it lies,
Yet what the best is take
the worst to be.
If eyes corrupt by
over-partial looks
Be anchor'd in the bay
where all men ride,
Why of eyes' falsehood
hast thou forged hooks,
Whereto the judgment of
my heart is tied?
Why should my heart
think that a several plot
Which my heart knows the
wide world's common place?
Or mine eyes seeing
this, say this is not,
To put fair truth upon
so foul a face?
In things right true my
heart and eyes have erred,
And to this false plague
are they now transferr'd.
No comments:
Post a Comment