Sonnet To Lord Bothwell - 1 Poem by Mary Stuart

Lord, grant your mercy unto me:
Teach me some way that he may know
My love for him is not an empty show
But purest tenderness and constancy.
For does he not, alas, ev'n now possess
This body and this heart which would not flee
Discord, dishonour, nor uncertainty,
Nor family hurt, nor evil's worst distress.
For his sake, I value all my friends as dust
And in my enemies I seek to place my trust.
For him, my conscience and good name to chance I've cast:
I would renounce the world, were it his whim:
I'd gladly die if it should profit him.
What more is there to prove my love steadfast?