Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy,
To make of monsters and things indigest
Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
Creating every bad a perfect best,
As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
O! 'tis the first, 'tis flattery in my seeing,
And my great mind most kingly drinks it up:
Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,
And to his palate doth prepare the cup:
If it be poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin
That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.
Here the possibility that the eye and the mind are independent (or might be so) is exploited in a way that befits the conceit of a metaphysical poem, without any sure resolution being achieved. One is left at the end doubting which of the two, the eye or the mind, is the most guilty, or indeed whether either is guilty of anything other than too much loving.
The 1609 Quarto Version
OR whether doth my minde being crown'd with you
Drinke vp the monarks plague this flattery ?
Or whether ſhall I ſay mine eie ſaith true,
And that your loue taught it this Alcumie?
To make of monſters,and things indigeſt,
Such cherubines as your ſweet ſelf reſemble,
Creating euery bad a perfect beſt
As faſt as obiects to his beames aſſemble:
Oh tis the firſt,tis flatry in my ſeeing,
And my great minde moſt kingly drinkes it vp,
Mine eie well knowes what with his guſt is greeing,
And to his pallat doth prepare the cup.
If it be poiſon'd,tis the leſſer ſinne,
That mine eye loues it and doth firſt beginne.