| HOW careful was I when I took my way | |
| Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, | |
| That to my use it might unused stay | |
| From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust! | |
| But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, | 5 |
| Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, | |
| Thou, best of dearest and mine only care, | |
| Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. | |
| Thee have I not lock’d up in any chest, | |
| Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, | 10 |
| Within the gentle closure of my breast, | |
| From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part; | |
| And even thence thou wilt be stol’n, I fear, | |
| For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear. |