Explore Poems GO!

Sonnet Xxiv

Rating: 4.1
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is the painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies;
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Read More
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS
Fantone Mdala 12 May 2019
This a work of art. I must learn to adopt this style of poetry writing
0 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
1 4 Reply

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

6/18/2021 12:53:44 AM # 1.0.0.630