| SO am I as the rich, whose blessed key | |
| Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, | |
| The which he will not every hour survey, | |
| For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. | |
| Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, | 5 |
| Since, seldom coming, in that long year set, | |
| Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, | |
| Or captain jewels in the carconet. | |
| So is the time that keeps you as my chest, | |
| Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide, | 10 |
| To make some special instant special blest | |
| By new unfolding his imprison’d pride. | |
| Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope, | |
| Being had, to triumph; being lack’d, to hope. |