Oh eyes, which do the spheres of beauty move, <br />Whose beams be joys, whose joys all virtues be, <br />Who while they make Love conquer, conquer Love, <br />The schools where Venus hath learn'd chastity; <br /> <br />Oh eyes, whose humble looks most glorious prove, <br />Only lov'd tyrants, just in cruelty, <br />Do not, oh do not from poor me remove, <br />Keep still my zenith, ever shine on me. <br /> <br />For though I never see them, but straightways <br />My life forgets to nourish languish'd sprites; <br />Yet still on me, oh eyes, dart down your rays: <br /> <br />And if from majesty of sacred lights, <br />Oppressing mortal sense, my death proceed, <br />Wracks triumphs be, which Love (high set) doth breed.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-42-oh-eyes-which-do-the-spheres/
