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| SONNET 137 |
| Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, |
| That they behold, and see not what they see? |
| They know what beauty is, see where it lies, |
| Yet what the best is take the worst to be. |
| If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks |
| Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride, |
| Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, |
| Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? |
| Why should my heart think that a several plot |
| Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? |
| Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not, |
| To put fair truth upon so foul a face? |
| In things right true my heart and eyes have erred, |
| And to this false plague are they now transferr'd. |
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