Sonnets by William Shakespeare: LVII

Sonnet LVI

Sonnet LVIII

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. 

Contents

Sonnet LVI

Sonnet LVIII