Sonnet 48

1 How careful was I when I took my way,
2 Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
3 That to my use it might unused stay
4 From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
5 But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
6 Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
7 Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
8 Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
9 Thee have I not locked up in any chest,
10 Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
11 Within the gentle closure of my breast,
12 From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part,
13 And even thence thou wilt be stol’n I fear,
14 For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.