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