Classic Poem

O stealing time, the subject of delay
(Delay, the rack of unrefrained desire),
What strange design hast thou my hopes to stay,
My hopes which do but to mine own aspire?

Mine own? O word on whose sweet sound doth prey
My greedy soul, with gripe of inward fire.
Thy title great, I justly challenge may,
Since in such phrase his faith he did attire.

O time, become the chariot of my joys;
As thou draw'st on, so let my bliss draw near.
Each moment lost, part of my hap destroys.

Thou art the father of occasion dear:
Join with thy son to ease my long annoys.
In speedy help thank-worthy friends appear.