So are you to my thoughts as food to life, <br />Or as sweet-season'd 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 better'd that the world may see my pleasure: <br />Sometime all full with feasting on your sight, <br />And by and by clean starved 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-life/
