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