Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes;
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To side this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye’s moiety, and the dear heart’s part:
As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part,
And my heart’s right, thy inward love of heart.
In plain English
The speaker's eye and heart are locked in a battle over how to possess the beloved. The eye wants to claim the right to look at the beloved's face and image, while the heart insists it holds the deeper claim—that the beloved lives within it, in a private inner space no mere glance can reach.
To settle this dispute, the speaker summons his thoughts (loyal to the heart) as a jury. They deliberate and hand down their verdict: the eye gets its due—the beloved's outward beauty and form. But the heart wins the greater prize: the beloved's inner love and affection, the thing that matters most.
The resolution feels neat on the surface, but it leaves a question hanging: can these two really be divided? The heart gets love, but only if the eye stops looking. It's a compromise that might satisfy no one.
