(no subject)
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
The he (dear he) might take some pleasure of my pain;
Pleasure might cause him read, reading might make him know;
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain;
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,
Studying inventions fine, his wits to entertain;
Oft turning others leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburnt brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay;
Invention, nature's child, fled step-dame study's blows;
And other's feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
'Fool,' said my muse to me; 'look in thy heart, and write.'
The he (dear he) might take some pleasure of my pain;
Pleasure might cause him read, reading might make him know;
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain;
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,
Studying inventions fine, his wits to entertain;
Oft turning others leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburnt brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay;
Invention, nature's child, fled step-dame study's blows;
And other's feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
'Fool,' said my muse to me; 'look in thy heart, and write.'