Thus can my love excuse the slow offence, <br />Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed, <br />From where thou art, why should I haste me thence? <br />Till I return of posting is no need. <br />O what excuse will my poor beast then find, <br />When swift extremity can seem but slow? <br />Then should I spur though mounted on the wind, <br />In winged speed no motion shall I know, <br />Then can no horse with my desire keep pace, <br />Therefore desire (of perfect'st love being made) <br />Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his fiery race, <br />But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade, <br />Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow, <br />Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-51-2/
