BlkSeattlesub
Posts: 34
Joined: 9/3/2004 Status: offline
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Sonnet 57 Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desires? 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 naught Save, where you are how happy you make those. So true a fool so love, that in your will, Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. Wm. Shakespeare Sonnet 58 That god forbid that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th'account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure! O, let me suffer, being at your leisure! O, let me suffer, being at your beck, Th'imprison'd absence of your liberty; And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheek, Without accusing you of injury. Be where you list, your charter is so strong, That you yourself may privilege your time: Do what you will, to you it doth belong Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime. I am to wait, though waiting to be hell; Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well. Wm. Shakespeare
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