Far from these eyes, and sundered from that face,
Which with alluring looks hath me o'erta'en,
I move unmoved, I change unchanged each place,
And thereby think to mitigate my pain.
And while I thusways from your sight remain,
Remembering all the moments that are past,
Yea every hour that I have spent in vain,
In following you, where ye have fled as fast;
Unto this dial horolage, at last,
I me compare, where love the needle is;
My heart the glass, which shows all grace is past,
The thread my thought, the shadow but a kiss:
See me, who then would morning know by noon;
I am the dial, Sirs, and she the sun.