Sonnet XVIII. The rolling wheel that runneth often round

Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

THE ROLLING wheel that runneth often round,

The hardest steel, in tract of time doth tear:

And drizzling drops, that often do redound,

The firmest flint doth in continuance wear:

Yet cannot I, with many a dropping tear

And long entreaty, soften her hard heart;

That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to hear,

Or look with pity on my painful smart;

But, when I plead, she bids me play my part;

And, when I weep, she says, “Tears are but water,”

And, when I sigh, she says, “I know the art”;

And, when I wail, she turns her self to laughter.

So do I weep, and wail, and plead in vain,

Whiles she as steel and flint doth still remain.