Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence

1Thus can my love excuse the slow offence

2Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:

3From where thou art why should I haste me thence?

4Till I return, of posting is no need.

5O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,

6When swift extremity can seem but slow?

7Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,

8In winged speed no motion shall I know,

9Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;

10Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made,

11Shall neigh — no dull flesh — in his fiery race;

12But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade, —

13 'Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,

14 Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.'