The Sonnets XXIV - Mine eye hath playd the painter and hath stelld
By William Shakespeare
Mine eye hath playd the painter and hath stelld,
Thy beautys form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein tis held,
And perspective it is best painters art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image picturd lies,
Which in my bosoms shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed 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, where-through 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.