Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you, <br /> Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery? <br /> Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true, <br /> And that your love taught it this alchemy, <br /> To make of monsters and things indigest <br /> Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble, <br /> Creating every bad a perfect best, <br /> As fast as objects to his beams assemble? <br /> O,'tis the first; 'tis flattery in my seeing, <br /> And my great mind most kingly drinks it up: <br /> Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing, <br /> And to his palate doth prepare the cup: <br /> If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin <br /> That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-cxiv/
