Shakespeare's Sonnet 57

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 thoughtWhere you may be, or your affairs suppose,But, like a sad slave, stay and think of noughtSave, 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.

As your slave, what should I do except wait for whatever hours and occasions suit your wishes? I have no valuable time of my own to spend, and no duties to perform until you ask. Nor do I dare complain about the endless hours while I watch the clock for you, my ruler. I must not resent the bitterness of your absence once you have said goodbye to your servant. Nor do I dare let jealous thoughts ask where you might be or guess what you are doing. Instead, like a sad slave, I stay and think of nothing except how happy you make the people wherever you are. Love is such a faithful fool that, entirely at your command, it thinks no evil of you, whatever you do.