Whilst yet mine Eyes do surfeit with delight, My woeful Heart, imprison'd in my breast, Wisheth to be transformed to my sight, That it, like these, by looking might be blest. But whilst my Eyes thus greedily do gaze, Finding their objects over-soon depart, These now the other's happiness do praise, Wishing themselves that they had been my Heart, That Eyes were Heart, or that the Heart were Eyes, As covetous the other's use to have; But finding Nature their request denies, This to each other mutually they crave: That since the one cannot the other be, That Eyes could think, or that my Heart could see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REPULSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHEN MALINDY SINGS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EASTER WINGS by GEORGE HERBERT THE WOODSPURGE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO THE SHAH (1) by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI THE CONCLUSION OF A LETTER TO THE REV. MR. C --. by MARY BARBER GHOST-BEREFT; A SCENE FROM BOGLAND IN WAR-TIME by JANE BARLOW |