- Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
- That they behold, and see not what they see?
- They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
- Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
- If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
- Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,
- Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
- Whereto the judgement of my heart is tied?
- Why should my heart think that a several plot,
- Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?
- Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
- To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
- In things right true my heart and eyes have err’d,
- And to this false plague are they now transferr’d.