HOW can my Muse want
subject to invent |
|
While thou dost breathe, that pourst
into my verse |
|
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent |
|
For every vulgar paper to rehearse? |
|
O! give thyself the thanks, if aught in me |
5 |
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight; |
|
For who s so dumb that cannot write
to thee, |
|
When thou thyself dost give invention light? |
|
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in
worth |
|
Than those old nine which rimers invocate; |
10 |
And he that calls on thee, let him bring
forth |
|
Eternal numbers to outlive long date. |
|
If my slight Muse do please these
curious days, |
|
The pain be mine, but thine shall
be the praise. |
|