[Lyric] The Resolution: A Sonnet of Petrarch out of Italian (Philip Ayres)

O Time! Oh rolling 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 myself 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:
Virtue's no chance, but is acquir'd by skill.