Sonnet 113
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;And that which governs me to go aboutDoth part his function and is partly blind,Seems seeing, but effectually is out;For it no form delivers to the heartOf 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 rudest or gentlest sight,The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,The mountain or the sea, 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 makes mine eye untrue.
I'm captured by visions of youthat render my vision untrue.You’ve entered my mindand stricken me blind,but who needs true sight with this view?