Sonnet 52

1 So am I as the rich whose blessed key,
2 Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
3 The which he will not every hour survey,
4 For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
5 Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
6 Since seldom coming in that long year set,
7 Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
8 Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
9 So is the time that keeps you as my chest
10 Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
11 To make some special instant special-blest,
12 By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
13 Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,
14 Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.