Sonnetsday 34

XXIV. INE eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd*        Thy beauty's form in table† of my heart;    My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,        And perspective it is the 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 glazèd 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.

AJ Notes:
* stell'd, fixed firmly.
† table, canvas.
‡ shop, workshop, as of a painter.
± Yet... art,  Yet even eyes as skillful (cunning) as mine
lack (want) something to give the painting the final grace notes.