Morpheus the lively son of deadly sleep, <br />Witness of life to them that living die, <br />A prophet oft, and oft an history, <br />A poet eke, as humors fly or creep, <br /> <br />Since thou in me so sure a power dost keep, <br />That never I with clos'd-up sense do lie, <br />But by thy work my Stella I descry, <br />Teaching blind eyes both how to smile and weep; <br /> <br />Vouchsafe of all acquaintance this to tell: <br />Whence hast thou ivory, rubies, pearl and gold, <br />To show her skin, lips, teeth, and head so well? <br /> <br />'Fool,' answers he, 'no Indies such treasures hold, <br />But from thy heart, while my sire charmeth thee, <br />Sweet Stella's image I do steal to me.'<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-32-morpheus-the-lively-son/
