Sonnet 113
Since I left you, mine eye is in my
mind
«William Shakespeare»
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
And that which
governs me to go about,
Doth part his
function, and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but
effectually is out:
For it no form
delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower,
or shape which it doth latch,
Of his quick objects
hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision
holds what it doth catch:
For if it see the
rud'st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour
or deformed'st creature,
The mountain, or the
sea, the day, or night:
The crow, or dove, it
shapes them to your feature.
Incapable of more,
replete with you,
My most true mind
thus maketh mine untrue.
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