1126WHy is my verse so barren of new pride?

1127So far from variation or quicke change?

1128Why with the time do I not glance aside

1129To new found methods, and to compounds strange?

1130Why write I still all one, euer the same,

1131And keepe inuention in a noted weed,

1132That euery word doth almost fel my name,

1133Shewing their birth, and where they did proceed proceed

1134O know sweet loue I alwaies write of you,

1135And you and loue are still my argument:

1136So all my best is dressing old words new,

1137Spending againe what is already spent:

1138 For as the Sun is daily new and old,

1139So is my loue still telling what is told,

1141THy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,

1142Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,

1143The vacant leaues thy mindes imprint will beare,

1144And of this booke, this learning maist thou taste.

1145The wrinckles which thy glasse will truly show,

1146Of mouthed graues will giue thee memorie,

1147Thou by thy dyals shady stealth maist know,

1148Times theeuish progresse to eternitie.

1149Looke what thy memorie cannot containe,

1150Commit to these waste blacks, and thou shalt finde

1151Those children nurst, deliuerd from thy braine,

1152To take a new acquaintance of thy minde.

1153 These offices, so oft as thou wilt looke,

1154Shall profit thee, and much inrich thy booke.

1156SO oft haue I inuok'd thee for my Muse,

1157And found such faire assistance in my verse,

1158As euery Alien pen hath got my vse,

1159And vnder thee their poesie disperse.

1160Thine eyes, that taught the dumbe on high to sing,

1161And heauie ignorance aloft to flie,

1162Haue added fethers to the learneds wing,

1163And giuen grace a double Maiestie.

1164Yet be most proud of that which I compile,

1165Whose influence is thine, and borne of thee,

1166In others workes thou doost but mend the stile,

1167And Arts with thy sweete graces graced be.

1168 But thou art all my art, and doost aduance

1169As high as learning, my rude ignorance.