Sonnet 37

　　As a decrepit father takes delight

　　To see his active child do deeds of youth，

　　So I，made lame by fortune's dearest spite，

　　Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth；

　　For whether beauty，birth，or wealth，or wit，

　　Or any of these all，or all，or more，

　　Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit，

　　I make my love engrafted to this store.

　　So then I am not lame，poor，nor despised，

　　Whilst that this shadow doth