The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 10

by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

For other versions of this work, see Sonnet 57 (Shakespeare).

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ABSENCE

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. W. Shakespeare