Sonnet 75 So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-seasond 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 betterd 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.
Posted on: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 12:32:47 +0000
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