To Imagination. Sonnet 33 (Sonnet 33)

WHilst yet mine eies doe surfet with delight,
My wofull hart imprisond in my brest,
Wisheth to be transformed in my sight,
That it like those, by looking might be blest,
But whilst mine eies thus greedily doe gaze,
Finding their obiects ouer-soone departe,
These now the others happines doe praise,
Wishing themselues that they had bin my hart;
That eies were hart, or that the hart were eies,
As couetous the others vse to haue;
But finding reason, their request denies,
This to each other mutually they craue;
That since the one cannot the other bee,
That eies could thinke, or that my hart could see.