Sonnet 78

The Rival Poet

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