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William Shakespeare - Sonnet 24: “Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled…”
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Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
  Thy beauty`s form in table of my heart,
  My body is the frame wherein `tis held,
  And perspective it is best painter`s art.
  For through the painter must you see his skill,
  To find where your true image pictured lies,
  Which in my bosom`s shop is hanging still,
  That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
  Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
  Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
  Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
  Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;  
    Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
    They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
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