SONNET #24
by: William Shakespeare
(1564-1616)
- INE eye
hath played the painter and hath stelled
- Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
- My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
- And perspective it is best painter's art.
- For through the painter must you see his skill
- To fine where your true image pictured lies,
- Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
- That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
- Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
- Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
- Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun
- Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
- Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;
- They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
"Sonnet #24" was originally
published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted
(1609). |
MORE POEMS BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |
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