Sonnet 26

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalageThy merit hath my duty strongly knit,To thee I send this written embassage,To witness duty, not to show my wit:Duty so great, which wit so poor as mineMay make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,But that I hope some good conceit of thineIn thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it;Till whatsoever star that guides my movingPoints on me graciously with fair aspectAnd puts apparel on my tatter'd loving,To show me worthy of thy sweet respect: Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee; Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
Loving Lord, even if it seems witless,I declare, with this poem at my witness:you're not seeing my headoutside or in bed'til you prove that you're worthy to hit this.