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