So are you to my thoughts as food to life, <br />Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; <br />And for the peace of you I hold such strife <br />As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found. <br />Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon <br />Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; <br />Now counting best to be with you alone, <br />Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure; <br />Sometimes all full with feasting on your sight, <br />And by and by clean starvèd for a look; <br />Possessing or pursuing no delight <br />Save what is had, or must from you be took. <br /> Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, <br /> Or gluttoning on all, or all away.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-75-so-are-you-to-my-thoughts-as-food-to-l/
