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Sonnet 57: Being Your Slave, What Should I Do But Tend

Rating: 3.4

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 naught
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Jani 26 April 2014

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out

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Abbie Bennett 24 November 2009

This sonnet so beautifully captures that desperate ache one feels in ones soul when apart from his love. Who of us has not felt it? That dreadful sense of helplessness when we desire to always be at our beloved's side, to tend to his every whim, to care for every need? So bound our we, so willingly captive in Love, that the pains of our true love's departure renders from us only a wistful sigh for his return, yet no protest at his leaving because of his sovereignty in our lives, and in our hearts. This is a desperate ache, indeed, and we are powerless to remedy it.

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Laury Wong 07 February 2008

I was recently introduced to Shakespeare's sonnet and this one caught my attention; because partly it is sad, true, and applicable in life...well, long story short(sigh!) This is beautiful choice of words....Praise to Shakspeare! ! !

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