Роберт Сидни (Robert Sidney)

Sonnet 12. Who gives himself, may ill his words deny

Who gives himself, may ill his words deny;
My words gave me to you, my word I gave
Still to be yours, you speech and speaker have:
Me to my word, my word to you I tie.

Long ere I was, I was by Destiny
Unto your love ordained, a free-bound slave;
Destiny, which me to my own choice drave
And to my ends, made me my will apply:

For ere on earth in you true beauty came,
My first breath I had drawn, upon the day
Sacred to you, blessed in your fair name;

And all the days and hours, I since do spend
Are but the fatal, wished time to slay
To seal the bands of service without end.

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