Sonnet 51

  1. Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
  2. Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
  3. From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
  4. Till I return, of posting is no need.
  5. O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,
  6. When swift extremity can seem but slow?
  7. Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
  8. In winged speed no motion shall I know,
  9. Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
  10. Therefore desire, of perfect’st love being made,
  11. Shall neigh no dull flesh in his fiery race,
  12. But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade:
  13. ‘Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,
  14. Towards thee I’ll run, and give him leave to go.’

Tip: click a line to share it — or shift-click another line to share a range.