1 O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
2 For thy neglect of truth in beauty dy'd?
3 Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
4 So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
5 Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
6 "Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
7 Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
8 But best is best, if never intermix'd"?
9 Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
10 Excuse not silence so; for't lies in thee
11 To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,
12 And to be praised of ages yet to be.
13 Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
14 To make him seem long hence as he shows now.