Sonnet XLVI.

XLVI.

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 pierc'd 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.