---

John Milton - Sonnet VII: On His Being Arriv`d To The Age Of 23
Work rating: Medium

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol`n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew`th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth
That I to manhood am arriv`d so near; 
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu`th.
Yet it be less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure ev`n
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav`n:
All is, if I have grace to use it so
As ever in my great Task-Master`s eye.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.