Sonnet 58

　　That god forbid，that made me first your slave，

　　I should in thought control your times of pleasure，

　　Or at your hand the account of hours to crave.

　　Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

　　O let me suffer，being at your beck，

　　The imprisoned absence of your liberty，

　　And patience，tame to sufferance，bide each check，

　　Without accusing you of injury.

　　Be where you list，your charter is so strong

　　That y