LI. Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
        
          Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
          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 neigh-- 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.'