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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare: Poems.  1914.

Sonnet LVII.

“Being your slave, what should I do but tend”


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,         5
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,  10
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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