Sunshine is nothing to the way thou shines
while frost'd morns do leave me chill'd and cold,
more bright and fresh for me are these poor lines
which in their way are more to me than gold.
Diminish'd is this world and all within
for with one smile thou made me double-blind
and in that moment then did I begin
to see naught else save thee within my mind.
For there is where I wear the laurel'd wreath,
pick up mine pen and gaze with lustrous eyes
upon a treasure safe from any thief
for buried deep in heart and mind thou lies —
And double-rich am I for in this way
each time we meet thou never was away.