by: William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
      S a decrepit father takes delight
      To see his active child do deeds of youth,
      So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite,
      Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
      For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
      Or any of these all, or all, or more,
      Intitled in thy parts to crownèd sit,
      I make my love ingrafted to this store.
      So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised
      Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
      That I in thy abundance am sufficed
      And by a part of all thy glory live.
      Look what is best, that best I wish in thee.
      This wish I have; then ten times happy me!