Sonnet

Far from these eyes, and sundered from that face, Which with alluring looks hath me o'erta'en, I move unmoved, I change unchanged each place, And thereby think to mitigate my pain. And while I thusways from your sight remain, Remembering all the moments that are past, Yea every hour that I have spent in vain, In following you, where ye have fled as fast; Unto this dial horolage, at last, I me compare, where love the needle is; My heart the glass, which shows all grace is past, The thread my thought, the shadow but a kiss: See me, who then would morning know by noon; I am the dial, Sirs, and she the sun.