Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage br Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, br To thee I send this written embassage br To witness duty, not to show my wit— br Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine br May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it, br But that I hope some good conceit of thine br In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it; br Till whatsoever star that guides my moving br Points on me graciously with fair aspect, br And puts apparel on my tattered loving br To show me worthy of thy sweet respect. br Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee; br Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.