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 any thing, he thinks no ill.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
