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 despised,
Whilst
that this shadow doth such substance give,
That I in
thy abundance am sufficed,
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.
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