Shakespeare's Sonnet 141

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,For they in thee a thousand errors note;But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invitedTo any sensual feast with thee alone:But my five wits nor my five senses canDissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:Only my plague thus far I count my gain,That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

Honestly, I don’t love you with my eyes, because they notice a thousand faults in you. It is my heart that loves what they despise and, despite what they see, is happy to adore you foolishly. My ears take no delight in the sound of your voice, either. Nor does my sensitive touch, drawn to physical pleasures, nor my taste or smell wish to be invited to a feast of the senses with you alone.
But neither my five mental faculties nor my five senses can persuade one foolish heart to stop serving you. It leaves me a mere likeness of a man, without control of myself, to become the slave and miserable servant of your proud heart. I count only this much of my suffering as a gain: the woman who makes me sin also punishes me with pain.