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Poem by William Shakespeare


Sonnet 57. Being your slave what should I do but tend


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.



William Shakespeare


William Shakespeare's other poems:
  1. The Church at Stratford
  2. Anne Hathaway
  3. Full Fathom Five
  4. Dirge of the Three Queens
  5. The Phoenix and the Turtle


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