A queen will always turn pain into power

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilsts I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Not think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Not dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
   

So true a fool is love that in your will,
   Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill

Sonnet 57, W. Shakespeare