Sonnet 37. As a decrepit father takes delight

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: