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Poem by Michael Drayton


Sonnet 33. Whilst Yet Mine Eyes Do Surfeit With Delight


    To Imagination

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.



Michael Drayton


Michael Drayton's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 48. Cupid, I Hate thee
  2. Roc
  3. Sonnet 56. When like an Eaglet I First Found My Love
  4. Sonnet 24. I Hear Some Say
  5. Sonnet 36. Thou Purblind Boy


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