Shakespeare's Sonnet Logarithm

                          136
F thy soule check thee that I come so neere,
Sweare to thy blind soule that I was thy Will,
And will thy soule knowes is admitted there,
Thus farre for loue, my loue-sute sweet fullfill.
Will, will fulfill the treasure of thy loue,
I fill it full with wils,and my will one,
In things of great receit with ease we prooue.
Among a number one is reckon'd none.
Then in the number let me passe vntold,
Though in thy stores account I one must be,
For nothing hold me,so it please thee hold,
That nothing me,a some-thing sweet to thee.
   Make but my name thy loue,and loue that still,
   And then thou louest me for my name is Will.

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