O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
1
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
5
'Truth needs no color with his color fixed,
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermixed.'
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
9
Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
13
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.