Honour to you who sit! Neere to the well of wit; And drink your fill of it. Glory and worship be! To you sweet Maids (thrice three) Who still inspire me. And teach me how to sing Unto the Lyrick string My measures ravishing. Then while I sing your praise, My Priest-hood crown with bayes Green, to the end of dayes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 6 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING CAVALIER TUNES: BOOT AND SADDLE by ROBERT BROWNING THE LINCOLN HOME by ZELLA ACKERMAN A FRESHET by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM TO TWO BEREAVED by THOMAS ASHE TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE by PAKENHAM THOMAS BEATTY |