Sonnet 75
So are you to my thoughts as food to
life
«William Shakespeare»
So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-seasoned
showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of
you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and
his wealth is found.
Now proud as an
enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching
age will steal his treasure,
Now counting best to
be with you alone,
Then bettered that
the world may see my pleasure,
Sometime all full
with feasting on your sight,
And by and by clean
starved for a look,
Possessing or
pursuing no delight
Save what is had, or
must from you be took.
Thus do I pine and
surfeit day by day,
Or gluttoning on all,
or all away.
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