Dear, if you love me, hold me most your friend, Chosen from out the many who would bear Your gladness gladly—heavily your care; Who best can sympathize, best comprehend, Where others fail; who, breathless to the end, Follows your tale of joy or of despair. Hold me your counsellor, because I dare To lift my hand to guide you, that I lend My love to help you. And I would you knew That I am fair enough to win men’s hearts, If so I willed; yet honor me above All other women, since I am too true To trap you with my sex’s smaller arts. Deem me all these, but love me as your love.
A Sonnet
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