• So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
    Or as sweet seasoned show'rs are to the ground;
    And for the peace of you I hold such strife
    As ’twixt a miser and his wealth is found;
    Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
    Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
    Now counting best to be with you alone,
    Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure;
    Sometime all full with feasting on your sight
    And by and by clean starvèd for a look;
    Possessing or pursuing no delight,
    Save what is had or must from you be took.
      Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
      Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
  • I need you the way living things need food or the grass needs rain, and to attain the peace that only you can give me, I fight with myself the way a miser struggles with his wealth. One moment he enjoys his wealth proudly, and the next he’s worried that someone from these thieving times will steal his treasure. One moment I think it’s best to be alone with you, but then I think it would be better if the rest of the world could see my pleasure. At times I feel oversatisfied from looking at you excessively, but a little later I’m starving to get a look at you. I can’t experience or pursue any enjoyment except what you can give me or I can take from you. That’s why I suffer and feel hungry day after day, because I either get too much of you or none at all.