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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
How heavie doe I journey on the way,
When what I seeke (my weary travels end) Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, Thus farre the miles are measurde from thy friend. The beast that beares me, tired with my woe, Plods dully on, to beare that weight in me, As if by some instinct the wretch did know His rider lov'd not speed being made from thee: The bloody spurre cannot provoke him on, That some-times anger thrusts into his hide, Which heavily he answers with a grone, More sharpe to me then spurring to his side, For that same groane doth put this in my mind, My greefe lies onward and my joy behind. Thus can my love excuse the slow offence, Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed, From where thou art, why should I hast me thence, Till I returne of posting is no neede. O what excuse will my poore beast then find, When swift extremitie can seeme but slow, Then should I spurre though mounted on the wind, In winged speed no motion shall I know, Then can no horse with my desire keepe pace, Therefore desire (of perfects love being made) Shall neigh no dull flesh in his fiery race, But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade, Since from thee going, he went wilfull slow, Towards thee ile run, and give him leave to goe.
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600]. |
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