| | Sonnet 75 |
| |
So are you to my thoughts as food to life, |
| |
Or as sweet seasoned show'rs 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 starvèd 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. |
|
| Sonnet 75 |
|
I need you the way living things need food or the grass needs rain, and to attain the peace that only you can give me, I fight with myself the way a miser struggles with his wealth. One moment he enjoys his wealth proudly, and the next he's worried that someone from these thieving times will steal his treasure. One moment I think it's best to be alone with you, but then I think it would be better if the rest of the world could see my pleasure. At times I feel oversatisfied from looking at you excessively, but a little later I'm starving to get a look at you. I can't experience or pursue any enjoyment except what you can give me or I can take from you. That's why I suffer and feel hungry day after day, because I either get too much of you or none at all. |
|
Shopping Cart 
More...
