And perspective it is best painter's art :)

The less-famous-than-“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” but breathtaking sonnet 24  J

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XXIV

  Mine 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 best painter's art.

  For through the painter must you see his skill,

  To find where your true image pictur'd lies,

  Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,

  That hath his windows glazed 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.

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The degrees of depth, detail, and development of the metaphor in those first twelve lines!

I’m counting a two-part volta in this one:  The yet in line 13signals a shift from that metaphor, and the shift is confirmed by the not in line 14.