Sonnet 113: Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch;
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet-favour or deformed'st creature,
The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
Incapable of more, replete with you,
My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 114: Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you
Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy,
To make of monsters, and things indigest,
Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
Creating every bad a perfect best
As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
O, 'tis the first, 'tis flattery in my seeing,
And my great mind most kingly drinks it up;
Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,
And to his palate doth prepare the cup.
If it be poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin
That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 47: Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other,
When that mine eye is famished for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyself, away, art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 46
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes,
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part:
As thus: mine eye's due is thine outward part,
And my heart's right, thine inward love of heart.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sonnet 46: Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right,
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie—
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes—
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impanellèd
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,
And by their verdict is determinèd
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part.
As thus, mine eye's due is thy outward part,
And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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As the strings of love so deftly fall
As the strings of love so deftly fall
Cut from love's most secret hate
My love eludes, mine heart and all
I cannot breathe, it's too late
To retie the knot that to you doth bind
Mine heart; mine soul, mine love
That rests in mine lofty mind
Thou depart below but thou art above?
Myself I hope thou depart to me
Dying here alone with my delusion
A phantom thou became, a phantom I see
Of my lost love's fantastic illusion
Sweet dreams, to dream of thee forever
As the bond we hath doth slowly sever
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Upon The Skilfull Player Of An Instrument
He that can play well on an instrument,
Will take the ear, and captivate the mind
With mirth or sadness; for that it is bent
Thereto, as music in it place doth find.
But if one hears that hath therein no skill,
(As often music lights of such a chance)
Of its brave notes they soon be weary will:
And there are some can neither sing nor dance.
Comparison.
Unto him that thus skilfully doth play,
God doth compare a gospel-minister,
That rightly preacheth, and doth godly pray,
Applying truly what doth thence infer.
This man, whether of wrath or grace he preach,
So skilfully doth handle every word;
And by his saying doth the heart so reach,
That it doth joy or sigh before the Lord.
But some there be, which, as the brute, doth lie
Under the Word, without the least advance
Godward; such do despise the ministry;
They weep not at it, neither to it dance.
poem by John Bunyan
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Concord
Tremulous with love thy soul's hand pressures mine heart
So gently thy squeeze an impulse in me and I think of thee
Irresistible dost mine blood rush to mine mind smart
And in my mind, thy beauty with my intelligence I see.
Thy timid and shy engraved on mine love's ornament so faint
Impressing color on mine gray thoughts humorously and keen
With a palette of colors, thy beauty doth weave with thine perfect paint
The most magical charm one's thought hath ever seen.
As though thou read mine mind and played thy part
In harmony with thy gentle hand streaming blood to mine thought
Mine mind in concord with mine tremulous heart
Sincerely revels as thy soul designed from soul and wrought
A noble woman endowed with love's strength and mind
A gentlewoman like thee, understanding and kind..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Sonnet XXI
WAs it the worke of nature or of Art?
which tempred so the feature of her face:
that pride and meeknesse mixt by equall part,
doe both appeare t'adorne her beauties grace.
For with mild pleasance, which doth pride displace,
she to her loues doth lookers eyes allure:
& with sterne countenance back again doth chace
their looser lookes that stir vp lustes impure,
With such strange termes her eyes she doth inure,
that with one looke she doth my life dismay:
and with another doth it streight recure,
her smile me drawes, her frowne me driues away.
Thus doth she traine and teach me with her lookes,
such art of eyes I neuer read in bookes.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Sonnet 37: My Mouth Doth Water
My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell,
My tongue doth itch, my thoughts in labor be:
Listen then, lordings, with good ear to me,
For of my life I must a riddle tell.
Toward Aurora's court a nymph doth dwell,
Rich in all beauties which man's eye can see:
Beauties so far from reach of words, that we
Abase her praise, saying she doth excel:
Rich in the treasure of deserv'd renown,
Rich in the riches of a royal heart,
Rich in those gifts which give th'eternal crown;
Who though most rich in these and every part,
Which make the patents of true worldly bliss,
Hath no misfortune, but that Rich she is.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Though that Men do Call it Dotage
1 Though that men do call it dotage,
2 Who loveth not wanteth courage;
3 And whosoever may love get,
4 From Venus sure he must it fet
5 Or else from her which is her heir,
6 And she to him must seem most fair.
7 With eye and mind doth both agree.
8 There is no boot: there must it be.
9 The eye doth look and represent,
10 But mind afformeth with full consent.
11 Thus am I fixed without grudge:
12 Mine eye with heart doth me so judge.
13 Love maintaineth all noble courage.
14 Who love disdaineth is all of the village:
15 Such lovers--though they take pain--
16 It were pity they should obtain,
17 For often times where they do sue
18 They hinder lovers that would be true.
19 For whoso loveth should love but once.
20 Change whoso will, I will be none.
poem by Henry VIII King of England
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Sonnet 99: When Far-Spent Night
When far-spent night persuades each mortal eye,
To whom nor art nor nature granted light,
To lay his then mark-wanting shafts of sight,
Clos'd with their quivers, in sleep's armory;
With windows ope then most my mind doth lie,
Viewing the shape of darkness and delight,
Takes in that sad hue which the inward night
Of his maz'd powers keeps perfect harmony;
But when birds charm, and that sweet air which is
Morn's messenger, with rose enamel'd skies,
Calls each wight to salute the flower of bliss,
In tomb of lids then buried are mine eyes,
Forc'd by their lord, who is asham'd to find
Such light in sense, with such a darken'd mind.
poem by Philip Sidney
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You Who Have Never Been There....
what then doth the bird
learn from the cage?
what doth the bare limb
learn from the snow?
what doth the starving child
learn from his hunger?
what doth the homeless man
learn from the lighted window?
what doth the oppressed
learn from his oppression?
what doth the one discriminated against
learn from discrimination?
what doth the hopeless one
learn from his despair?
is it that easy for you to know,
you who have never been there?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Grieved For Buonaparte
I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood
Of that Man's mind--what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could 'he' gain?
'Tis not in battles that from youth we train
The Governor who must be wise and good,
And temper with the sternness of the brain
Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.
Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk
Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk
Of the mind's business: these are the degrees
By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk
True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Struggles Cease - after William Shakespeare Sonnet XLVII
Struggles cease as heart and eye ally
And each to each good turns does sans delay: -
Now may they twine as heart, with inner eye
Garners reflection fair of peerless traits.
The heart refreshed is eyeing every part,
Open eye's fulfilled, heart's welcome guest,
Moreover neither rush, wait other's start,
As hearts signed, sealed, are mutually impressed.
Mention Present, Past is shadow dim
As Present, passed, fair Future’s bells ring bright,
United are all three: ‘us’, ‘her’, ‘him’s’ hymn,
Draws trinity’s divinity in sight.
Eye may make no mistake, beyond day's shore,
Charmed knight returns to one he’d e’er adore.
12 June 2008
Happy Birthday M C!
After William Shakespeare
Shakespeare Sonnet XLVII
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famish’d for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyself away art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Beautiful Breast
Dainty, delicate and delicious doth meet
On thine breast tender, mild and sweet
Beauty in thy heart veiled by a beauteous breast
Seizes mine sight and mine heart arrest
Thou art a manifestation of tranquil beauty
Nurturing life, possessing love's duty
Enticingly sweet thy gravitate to me
With all love's passion glistening on the breast of thee
Thou kiss mine lips with thine tender breast
And I doth taste thy flesh while thine heart caress
Mine heart too, wert love in us doth meet
On thine tender, mild breast, lovely and sweet
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Lilies Without, Lilies Within
Can I think the Guide of Heaven
Hath so beautifully given
Outward features, 'cause He meant
To have made less excellent
Your divine part? Or suppose
Beauty, goodness doth oppose;
Like those fools, who do despair
To find any, good and fair?
Rather there I seek a mind
Most excelling, where I find
God hath to the body lent
Most-beseeming ornament,
And I do believe it true,
That, as we the body view
Nearer to perfection grow;
So, the soul herself doth show:
Other more and more excelling
In her powers; as in her dwelling.
poem by George Wither
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My Beloved's Ardor
One day, not so long since passed, I heard those words, three-
I knew then and there, I had gained my beloved's ardor, truly!
It is I that she doth adore, she did share with me, the same;
As my heart surely hath been thieved-so too her's-I, amorously to blame!
Sikerly I know what the proffer of her heart doth truly mean-
To covet and honor this calling shall I; No finer glory hath my mind's eye e'er seen!
Two worlds of wonder, each universally unique,
Hath once again come together and do seek
What assuredly is the solitary mate for each other's soul,
Looking to reunite with their hearts, which the other stole!
I have seen and do attest to its Empyrean truth;
To agnize like, you need not seek attestation nor even sleuth!
As water seeks its own level, so too doth love, indeed;
Once a love's true compeer hath been met, it must accede!
Maurice Harris,23 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Sonnet 44: My Words, I Know Do Well
My words I know do well set forth my mind,
My mind bemoans his sense of inward smart;
Such smart may pity claim of any heart,
Her heart, sweet heart, is of no tiger's kind:
And yet she hears, yet I no pity find;
But more I cry, less grace she doth impart,
Alas, what cause is there so overthwart,
That nobleness itself makes thus unkind?
I much do guess, yet find no truth save this:
That when the breath of my complaints doth touch
Those dainty doors unto the court of bliss,
The heav'nly nature of that place is such,
That once come there, the sobs of mine annoys
Are metamorphos'd straight to tunes of joys.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Magnificent Beauty
Magnificent beauty, where for art thou?
Your mind hath failed thee, doth this, allow?
All opined by thee, not of thought, inherent-
Not of thine heart, rather, fragile mind-apparent!
Reckoning day shall soon be before you,
Then perhaps, emotions real, restor'd too!
Counter were your actions, to sayeth very least-
Alas, lurking beneath-a horrible, altered beast!
Utter disappointment, have your actions been-
When the dust doth settle, either, you lose, or you win!
A lesson our children should've ne'er been made privy to-
In large part, made are we of actions, of all we do!
Allow now supplant of reality, for unkind delusion-
Then only, solution appears for your mind's illusion!
Maurice Harris,6 July 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Since I Met You 1051 Sandrine Bonnant after William Shakespeare Sonnet XI
Since I met you my eye is in my mind,
And all which makes me be, eat, sleep, or drink
Now functions, now suspended, partly blind,
Dares seeks to see, yet can't on others think,
Refusing to deliver to the heart
Images of bird, bloom, shape - none match!
No objects span attention's scan apart,
Enchantment when mind glimpse of you can catch.
Black's put to flight, as multi-coloured light
Overwhelms the senses lost to time,
Nirvana topsy turvy turns day, night,
Naturally flows through sonnet rhyme.
As lost for words to praise, I lose my way
To you mind turns, returns, with you would stay.
(13 November 2004)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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