You best discern'd of my mind's inward eyes, <br />And yet your graces outwardly divine, <br />Whose dear remembrance in my bosom lies, <br />Too rich a relic for so poor a shrine; <br />You, in whom Nature chose herself to view <br />When she her own perfection would admire, <br />Bestowing all her excellence on you, <br />At whose pure eyes Love lights his hallow'd fire; <br />E'en as a man that in some trance hath seen <br />More than his won'ring utt'rance can unfold, <br />That, rapt in spirit, in better worlds hath been, <br />So must your praise distractedly be told, <br />Most of all short when I would show you most, <br />In your perfections so much am I lost.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lvii-you-best-discern-d/
