Page 2024 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

78 IT

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 other works thou dost but mend the style,
And arts with thy sweet graces gracèd be.
But thou art all my art, and dost advance

As high as learning my rude ignorance.