Sonnet 93
So shall I live, supposing thou art true,Like a deceived husband; so love's faceMay still seem love to me, though alter'd new;Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:For there can live no hatred in thine eye,Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.In many's looks the false heart's historyIs writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange,But heaven in thy creation did decreeThat in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be,Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell. How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow, if thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
Despite your repeated declaring,I can't know the truth of your caring.As much as I want tofind out what's inside you,I'm stuck on the outside just staring.