Sonnet 85
The Rival Poet
- 1 My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
- 2 While comments of your praise richly compil'd,
- 3 Reserve their character with golden quill,
- 4 And precious phrase by all the Muses fil'd.
- 5 I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words,
- 6 And like unlettered clerk still cry 'Amen'
- 7 To every hymn that able spirit affords,
- 8 In polish'd form of well-refined pen.
- 9 Hearing you praised, I say ''tis so, 'tis true,'
- 10 And to the most of praise add something more;
- 11 But that is in my thought, whose love to you,
- 12 Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.
- 13 Then others, for the breath of words respect,
- 14 Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.