1 So oft have I invok'd thee for my Muse
2 And found such fair assistance in my verse
3 As every alien pen hath got my use
4 And under thee their poesy disperse.
5 Thine eyes that taught the dumb on high to sing
6 And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
7 Have added feathers to the learned's wing
8 And given grace a double majesty.
9 Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
10 Whose influence is thine and born of thee:
11 In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
12 And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
13 But thou art all my art and dost advance
14 As high as learning my rude ignorance.
|
|