Muse not that by thy mind thy body is led: For by thy mind, my mind's distempered. So thy Care lives long, for I bearing part It eates not only thyne, but my swolne heart. And when it gives us intermission We take new harts for it to feede upon. But as a Lay Mans Genius doth controule Body and mind; the Muse beeing the Soules Soule Of Poets, that methinks should ease our anguish, Although our bodyes wither and minds languish. Write then, that my griefes which thine got may bee Cur'd by thy charming soveraigne melodee. |