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.
