O no, thy love though much, is not so great, It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake. For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.

Venus and Adonis. Rape of Lucrece. Sonnets. Lover's complaint. Passionate pilgrim. Memoirs of Lord Southhampton (ed. 1821)