The laziest of eyes cannot miss you
You do not know that fair were meant for sight
For sight is blindness if he never knew
That beauty yours exist in beauties' plight;
To meet the eye and then be worshipped so
Then he of passing eyes who seeks the one,
And who does wonder none and waits your show;
Deserves your beauty when each morn has won.
Let I purpose you are the fairest fair
The form my sight does see when even closed
My eyelids know you well and draw you there
And have your stunning gaze on me so posed;

If this you know, then beauty needs me not
For you're my eyes, the rest are left forgot.