CXIII.

Since I left you mine eye is in my mind,
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;

For it no form delivers to the heart

Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rudeft or gentlest sight,

The most sweet favour or deformed'ft creature,
The mountain or the fea, the day or night,

The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature:
Incapable of more, replete with you,

My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.

CXIV.

Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
Or whether fhall I fay, mine eye faith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy,
To make of monfters and things indigeft
Such cherubins as your fweet felf refemble,
Creating every bad a perfect beft,

As faft as objects to his beams affemble?
O, 'tis the firft; 'tis flattery in my feeing,

And my great mind moft kingly drinks it up :

Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing, And to his palate doth prepare the cup :

If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin

That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.