Treasure Island

William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet 75: So are you to my thoughts as food to life


So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure;
Sometimes all full with feasting on your sight,
And by and by clean starvèd 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.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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  • Egal Bohen (2/27/2008 6:51:00 PM)

    Ah Will, of love it is you surely here do write
    A feast on beauty, through thy pleasured sight
    Thy gaze to feed a starve'd mind
    As food to life compared, yet still you pine. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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