(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnets Vii

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.

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Comments (2)

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
a slave to love...interesting...nice :)