|
|
|
As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth; For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any of these all, or all, or more, Entitled in thy parts, do crowned sit, I make my love engrafted, to this store: So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis'd, Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give That I in thy abundance am suffic'd, And by a part of all thy glory live. Look what is best, that best I wish in thee: This wish I have; then ten times happy me! |