Sight
So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found:
Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure;
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
and by and by clean starved for a look,
Possessing or pursuing no delight
Save what is had or must from you be took.
This I do pine and surfeit day by day,
Or gluttoning on all, or all away
The time has come randomandrew where you prove your knowledge of the inner workings of the randompoet.
posted by randompoet
at 10:19 PM
Monday, March 13, 2006
2 Comments:
are you saying you wish me to reveal your identity? cuz i could do that.
no, I'm saying that you must decide which poem did I write.
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