| Lyrics: | 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. |
