Sonnet 113

1 Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
2 And that which governs me to go about,
3 Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
4 Seems seeing, but effectually is out:
5 For it no form delivers to the heart
6 Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch,
7 Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
8 Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch:
9 For if it see the rud’st or gentlest sight,
10 The most sweet favour or deformed’st creature,
11 The mountain, or the sea, the day, or night:
12 The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
13 Incapable of more, replete with you,
14 My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.