1 In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
2 For they in thee a thousand errors note,
3 But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
4 Who in despite of view is pleas'd to dote;
5 Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
6 Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
7 Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
8 To any sensual feast with thee alone;
9 But my five wits nor my five senses can
10 Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
11 Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
12 Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be:
13 Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
14 That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
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