| THOSE parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view | |
| Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; | |
| All tongues—the voice of souls—give thee that due, | |
| Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. | |
| Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d; | 5 |
| But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own, | |
| In other accents do this praise confound | |
| By seeing farther than the eye hath shown. | |
| They look into the beauty of thy mind, | |
| And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds; | 10 |
| Then,—churls,—their thoughts, although their eyes were kind, | |
| To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds: | |
| But why thy odour matcheth not thy show, | |
| The soil is this, that thou dost common grow. |