Classic Poem

O stealing time, the subiect of delaie
(Delay, the racke of vnrefrain'd desire),
What strange designe hast thou my hopes to staie, —
My hopes, which doe but to mine owne aspire?
Mine owne! O word on whose sweet sound doth pray
My greedy soule with gripe of inward fire, —
Thy title great I iustly challenge may,
Since in such phrase his faith he did attire.
O Time, become the chariot of my ioyes;
As thou drawest on, so let my blisse draw neere;
Each moment lost, part of my hap destroyes
Thou art the father of occasion deare;
Ioyne with thy sonne to ease my long annoyes:
In speedy helpe thanke-worthy friends appeare.