SWeet warriour when shall I haue peace with you? <br />High time it is, this warre now ended were: <br />which I no lenger can endure to sue, <br />ne your incessant battry more to beare: <br />So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare, <br />that wonder is how I should liue a iot, <br />seeing my hart through launched euery where <br />with thousand arrowes, which your eies haue shot: <br />Yet shoot ye sharpely still, and spare me not, <br />but glory thinke to make these cruel stoures, <br />ye cruell one, what glory can be got, <br />in slaying him that would liue gladly yours? <br />Make peace therefore, and graunt me timely grace. <br />that al my wounds will heale in little space.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lvii-2/
