My muse may well grudge at my heavenly joy, If still I force her in sad rhymes to creep; She oft hath drunk my tears, now hopes to enjoy Nectar of mirth, since I Jove's cup do keep. Sonnets be not bound prentice to annoy; Trebles sing high, as well as basses deep; Grief but love's winter livery is; the boy Hath cheeks to smile, as well as eyes to weep. Come then my muse, show thou height of delight In well raised notes; my pen the best it may Shall paint out joy, though but in black and white. Cease, eager muse; peace pen, for my sake stay; I give you here my hand for truth of this: Wise silence is best music unto bliss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AD LESBIAM by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL MODERN LOVE: 43 by GEORGE MEREDITH DARWINISM by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON KENTUCKY BELLE by CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON TO THE SOLITUDE OF FONTENAY by GUILLAUME AMFRYE |