Being your slave, what should I do but tend <br /> Upon the hours and times of your desire? <br /> I have no precious time at all to spend, <br /> Nor services to do, till you require. <br /> Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour <br /> Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, <br /> Nor think the bitterness of absence sour <br /> When you have bid your servant once adieu; <br /> Nor dare I question with my jealous thought <br /> Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, <br /> But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought <br /> Save, where you are how happy you make those. <br /> So true a fool is love that in your will, <br /> Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lvii/
