Sonnet 51
The Marlowe Society
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Thus can my love excuse the slow offense
Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need
O! what excuse will my poor beast then find
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind
In winged speed no motion shall I know
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace
Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made
Shall weigh no dull flesh in his fiery race
But love for love thus shall excuse my jade
Since from thee going he went wilful slow
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go