Give in to Love, Faster than Time Flies

Shakespeare

Where art thou Muse that thou forget’st so long,
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make time’s spoils despised every where.
    Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,
    So thou prevent’st his scythe and crooked knife.

Come
	My love
Tempt me
	To forget
		My weakness
	To sing
		Without shame
	To leap
		Past my shadow

Turn
	See me
Align your spine with Time
	Spend it with me
	And save everything

Sing
	To my grateful ear
Write
		With skill
	To enforce my argument

Arise
	My restless love
Survey
	All that is sweet
Sculpt Time
	Lest it wrinkle you

	If anything
Play a joke

Laugh
	As Time spoils
		All else
And give in to Love
	Faster
		Than Time flies
		And Death swings its sword