Sonnet IV: Praise of Her Eyes, Excelling All Comparison

I bend my wit, but wit cannot devise
Words fit to blaze the worth your eyes contains,
Whose nameless worth their worthless name disdains,
For they in worth exceed the name of eyes.
Eyes they be not, but worlds, in which there lies
More bliss than this wide world besides contains.
Worlds they be not, but stars, whose influence reigns
Over my life and life's felicities.
Stars they be not, but suns, whose presence drives
Darkness from night, and doth bright day impart:
Suns they be not, which outward heat derives,
But these do inwardly inflame my heart.
Since then in earth, nor heaven, they equalled are,
I must confess they be beyond compare,