I'm back on my own for this one! Shakespeare writes another sonnet about how amazing his lover is. Yeah, we get it.

Our story continues with John Donne locked in a chest.

Sonnet 52

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