Being your slave, what should i do but tend Upon the hours and times of your disire? 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 servent once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealuos thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought, Save, Where you are now happy you make those; So true a fool is love, that in your will (Though you do anything) he thinks no ill. I like poems of sorts and romance all around. I was never good at talking about myself. You would just have to get to know me really.