Portrait of a Woman with a Man at a Casement, by Fra Filippo Lippi
Lady Mary Wroth
How fast thou fliest, O Time, on Loves swift wings,
    To hopes of joy, that flatters our desire:
    Which to a Lover still contentment brings;
    Yet when we should injoy, thou dost retire.
 
Thou stay’st thy pace (false Time) from our desire
    When to our ill thou hast’st with Eagles wings:
    Slow only to make us see thy retire
    Was for Despaire, and harme, which sorrow brings.
 
O slake thy pace, and milder passe to Love,
    Be like the Bee, whose wings she doth but use
    To bring home profit; masters good to prove,
    Laden, and weary, yet againe pursues.
 
So lade thy selfe with hony of sweet joy,
And do not me the Hive of Love destroy.
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