That god forbid, that made me first your slave, <br />I should in thought control your times of pleasure, <br />Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, <br />Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure! <br />O, let me suffer, being at your beck, <br />Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty, <br />And patience tame to sufferance, bide each check, <br />Without accusing you of injury. <br />Be where you list, your charter is so strong <br />That you your self may privilage your time <br />To what you will; to you it doth belong <br />Your self to pardon of self-doing crime. <br /> I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, <br /> Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-58-that-god-forbid-that-made-me-first-you/
