Come Time, the anchor-hold of my desire, <br />My last resort whereto my hopes appeal, <br />Cause once the date of her disdain t'expire; <br />Make her the sentence of her wrath repeal. <br />Rob her fair Brow, break in on Beauty, steal <br />Power from those eyes, which pity cannot spare; <br />Deal with those dainty cheeks as she doth deal <br />With this poor heart consumed with despair; <br />This heart made now the prospective of care, <br />By loving her, the cruelst Fair that lives, <br />The cruelst Fair that sees I pine for her, <br />And never mercy to my merit gives. <br />Let her not still triumph over the prize <br />Of mine affections taken by her eyes.<br /><br />Samuel Daniel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxii-come-time/
