The Resolution (Sonnet)

OH Time! Oh rowling Heavens, that fly so fast,
And cheat us Mortals ignorant and blind!
Oh fugitive Day, swifter than Bird or Wind!
Your Frauds I see, by all my Suff'rings past.

But pardon me, 'tis I my self must blame,
Nature that spreads your Wings, and makes you fly,
To me gave Eyes, that I my Ills might spy:
Yet I retain'd them to my Grief, and Shame.

Time was I might, and Time is still I may
Direct my Steps in a securer way,
And end this sad Infinity of Ill;
Yet 'tis not from thy Yoke, O Love, I part,
But the Effects; I will reclaim my Heart:
Vertue's no Chance, but is acquir'd by Skill.