Sonnet 75

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;And for the peace of you I hold such strifeAs 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;Now proud as an enjoyer and anonDoubting the filching age will steal his treasure,Now counting best to be with you alone,Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;Sometime all full with feasting on your sightAnd by and by clean starved 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.
I'm forlorn, for a hunger's beset me.I pray that its pangs will forget me,but it's hopeless, alack!For you look like a snackthat I'd eat all day long if you'd let me.