CXII. Your love and pity doth the impreffion fill To know my shames and praises from your tongue; That my fteel'd sense or changes right or wrong. In fo profound abysm I throw all care Of others' voices, that my adder's sense You are fo ftrongly in my purpose bred That all the world befides methinks they're dead. e; CXIII. Since I left you mine eye is in my mind, For it no form delivers to the heart Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch: Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch; For if it fee the rudeft or gentlest sight, The most sweet favour or deformed'ft creature, The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature: My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue. CXIV. Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you, As fast as objects to his beams assemble? And my great mind most kingly drinks it up : If it be poison'd, 'tis the leffer fin That mine eye loves it and doth first begin. CXV. Those lines that I before have writ do lie, dearer : Yet then my judgement knew no reason why Creep in 'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,' To give full growth to that which still doth grow? CXVI. Let me not to the marriage of true minds Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, nol it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, [taken. Whofe worth's unknown, although his height be Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. |