 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
xviii
[Thine eye, the glasse where I behold my hart]
Thine eye, the glasse where I behold my hart;
Mine eye, the window through the which thine eye
May see my hart, & there thy selfe espy
In bloody cullours how thou painted art;
Mine eye, the window through the which thine eye
May see my hart, & there thy selfe espy
In bloody cullours how thou painted art;
Thine eye the pyle is of a murdring dart,
Mine eye the sight thou tak'st thy levell by
To hit my hart, and never shootes awry;
Mine eye thus helpes thine eye to worke my smart;
Mine eye the sight thou tak'st thy levell by
To hit my hart, and never shootes awry;
Mine eye thus helpes thine eye to worke my smart;
Thine eye a fire is, both in heate and lighte;
Mine eye of teares a river doth become.
Oh, that the water of mine eye had might
To quench the flames that from thine eye doth come;
Or that the fire kindled by thine eye
The flowing streames of mine eyes could make drie.
Mine eye of teares a river doth become.
Oh, that the water of mine eye had might
To quench the flames that from thine eye doth come;
Or that the fire kindled by thine eye
The flowing streames of mine eyes could make drie.
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |