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LXXXVII.
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And
like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of
thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are
all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy
granting?
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so
my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gavest,
thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou
gavest it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon
misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better
judgment making.
Thus have I had thee, as a dream
doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such
matter.
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