And if these infants of mine artless brain, Not by their worth but by thy worthiness, A mean good liking of the learned gain, My Muse enfranchised from forgetfulness Shall hatch such breed in honour of thy name, As modern poets shall admire the same. As modern poets shall admire the same; I mean not you (you never matched men) Who brought the chaos of our tongue in frame, Through these Herculean labours of your pen; I mean the mean, I mean no men divine, But such whose feathers are but waxed like mine. Go, weeping truce-men in your sighing weeds, Under a great Maecenas I have passed you; If so you come where learned Colin feeds His lovely flock, pack thence and quickly haste you; You are but mists before so bright a sun, Who hath the palm for deep invention won. Kiss Delia's hand for her sweet prophet's sake, Whose not affected but well couched tears Have power, have worth, a marble mind to shake, Whose fame no iron-age or time outwears. Then lay you down in Phillis' lap and sleep, Until the weeping read, and reading weep. I Oh pleasing thoughts, apprentices of love, Fore-runners of desire, sweet mithridates The poison of my sorrows to remove, With whom my hopes and fear full oft debates! Enrich yourselves and me by your self riches, Which are the thoughts you spend on heaven-bred beauty, Rouse you my muse beyond our poets' pitches, And, working wonders, yet say all is duty! Use you no eaglets' eyes, nor phoenix' feathers, To tower the heaven from whence heaven's wonder sallies. For why? Your sun sings sweetly to her weathers, Making a spring of winter in the valleys. Show to the world though poor and scant my skill is How sweet thoughts be, that are but thought on Phillis! II You sacred sea-nymphs pleasantly disporting Amidst this wat'ry world, where now I sail; If ever love, or lovers sad reporting, Had power sweet tears from your fair eyes to hail; And you, more gentle-hearted than the rest, Under the northern noon-stead sweetly streaming, Lend those moist riches of your crystal crest, To quench the flames from my heart's AEtna streaming; And thou, kind Triton, in thy trumpet relish The ruthful accents of my discontent, That midst this travel desolate and hellish, Some gentle wind that listens my lament May prattle in the north in Phillis' ears: "Where Phillis wants, Damon consumes in tears." III