Sonnet CCXIX.

On the fair face for which I long and sigh
    Mine eyes were fasten'd with desire intense.
    When, to my fond thoughts, Love, in best reply,
    Her honour'd hand uplifting, shut me thence.
    My heart there caught--as fish a fair hook by,
    Or as a young bird on a lim�d fence--
    For good deeds follow from example high,
    To truth directed not its busied sense.
    But of its one desire my vision reft,
    As dreamingly, soon oped itself a way,
    Which closed, its bliss imperfect had been left:
    My soul between those rival glories lay,
    Fill'd with a heavenly and new delight,
    Whose strange surpassing sweets engross'd it quite.