Sonnet XCIV. Forth from mine eyes, with full tide, flows a river

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

FORTH from mine eyes, with full tide, flows a river;

And in thine eyes, two sparkling chrysolites.

Mine eye, still covet to behold those lights.

Thine eye, still filled with arrows, is LOVE’s Quiver!

Through mine eye, thine eyes’ fire inflames my liver.

Mine eyes, in heart, thine eyes’ clear fancies write;

Thus is thine eye to me, my fancies giver!

Which from thine eyes, to mine eyes take their flight.

Then pierce the secret centre of my heart;

And feed my fancies with inflamèd fuel!

This only grieves! Mine eyes had not that art

Thine to transpierce: thy nature was so cruel!

But eyes and fancies, in this, triumph make;

That they were blind and raging, for her sake!