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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 any thing, he thinks no ill.
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