Page 2047 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

101 IT

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends:
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,

‘Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed;
Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermixed?’
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?

Excuse not silence so, for’t lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse: I teach thee how

To make him seem long hence as he shows now.