You are to my thoughts as food is to life,
Or as sweet occasional showers to the ground.
And to obtain the peace of loving you, I submit to the kind of conflict
That is found between a miser and their wealth.
One moment proud of its possession, and then
Suspecting that the thieving world will steal his treasure;
One moment deciding I want to be with you privately,
Then that it would be better that the world can see my pleasure.
Sometimes full with feasting on your sight
And sometimes completely starved for a look;
Having and looking for no delight,
Except what is had or must be taken from you.
Therefore I pine and feast day by day,
Either feasting on everything, or lacking what that is absent.