I'll Serve Thee
Based on Shakespeare’s Sonnet XXVI
Master of my love, to whom in vassalage
They merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I give this faithful embassage,
To witness duty, and to use my wit.
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it;
But that I hope some good favour of thine
In thy soul’s thought, in wisdom, will bestow it:
Till that Elven star that guides by moving,
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts new apparel on my tatter’s loving,
To show me worthy of they sweet respect:
Then may I dare to boast how I did serve thee,
Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
These Last Pages
Based on Shakespeare’s Sonnet CVIII
What’s in the heart that ink may character,
Which hath not figure’d to thee my true spirit?
What’s new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thine dear merit?
Nothing, sweet master; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must each day say o’er the very same;
Counting no old tale old, for mine art thine.
Even as when first I beheld thy fair hand
Encased in light of star, recede to distant shore.
Weigh not the dust and injury of age,
Nor give to necessary wrinkles place,
But make antiquity for aye this written page;
Finding the first spark of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it dead.