By William Shakespeare



And now my charms are all o'erthrown

And what strength I have's mine own

Which is most faint: now t'is true

I must here be released by you



But release me from my bands

With the help of your good hands

Gentle breath of yours my sails

Must fill, or else my project fails,



Which was to please. Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer



Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself and frees all faults

As you from your crimes would pardon'd be

Let your indulgence set me free