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 Anything, He Thinks No Ill.