Sonnet 58. That god forbid, that made me first your slave

That god forbid, that made me first your slave

I should in thought control your times of pleasure

Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave

Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

O let me suffer (being at your beck)

Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty

And patience tame to sufferance bide each check

Without accusing you of injury.