When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, for all the day they view things unrespected; but whin I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, and darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made, by looking on thee in living day, when in dead night thy fair imperfect shade, throu heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights are bright days when dreams do show thee.