Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, To thee I send this written ambassage To witness duty, not to show 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 conceit of thine In thy soul's thought (all naked) will bestow it; Till whatsoever star that guides my moving Points on me graciously with fair aspect, And puts apparel on my tattered loving, To show me worthy of thy sweet respect: Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee, Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.

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