poetry and portraiture

Mine eye hath play’d the painter

Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath steel’d  Thy beauty’s form in the table of my heart;  My body is the frame wherein ’tis held,  And perspective is the painter’s art.  For through the painter must you see his skill, To find where your true image pictured lies;  Which in my bosom’s shop is… Continue reading Mine eye hath play’d the painter