Sonnet LVII

Being your slave what should I do but tend

Upon the hours, and times of your desire?

I have no precious time at all to spend;

Nor services to do till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world without end hour,

Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you,

Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,

When you have bid your servant once adieu.

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,

Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,

But like a sad slave stay and think of nought,

Save where you are, how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love, that in your Will,

(Though you do anything), he thinks no ill.

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William Shakespeare | "Sonnet LVII".
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