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Shakespeare's  Sonnet . . .
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key


&/\&/\&/\&/\&/\&

So am I as the rich, whose blessed key

Can bring hims 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,

Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,

Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,

Or captain jewels in the carkanet.

So is the time that keeps you, as my chest,

Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,

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.

&/\&/\&/\&/\&/\&

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