In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, Who in despite of view is pleased to dote; Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted, Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited To any sensual feast with thee alone: But my five wits nor my five senses can Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man, Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be: Only my plague thus far I count my gain, That she that makes me sin awards me pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHTS WITHOUT SLEEP by SARA TEASDALE ASOLANDO: SUMMUM BONUM by ROBERT BROWNING THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY SONNET TO A CLAM by JOHN GODFREY SAXE HINDOO FUNERAL SONG by EDWIN ARNOLD BARLEY BROTH by SUSANNA BLAMIRE ALFRED TENNYSON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 107. THE SUBLIME: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |