Sonnet 57: "Being your slave what should I do but tend..."

Being your slave what should I do but tend,
 Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
 I have no precious time at all to spend;
 Nor services to do till you require.  
 Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
 Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you,
 Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
 When you have bid your servant once adieu.
 Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,
 Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
 But like a sad slave stay and think of nought
 Save where you are, how happy you make those.
 So true a fool is love, that in your will,
 (Though you do any thing) he thinks no ill.