Why should my Pen presume to write his praise, And hee in perfect mould of Vertue framde? Why should my Muse sing of his happie daies, And he the marke, at which Dame Nature aimed? Why rather should I not such vertues show, That such pure golde from drosse each man may know? But cease my Muse, why dost thou take in hand so great a Taske: Which to perform a greater wit, than Mercuries would aske? For iudgement Iove, for Learning deepe, he still Apollo seemde: For floent Tongue, for eloquence, men Mercury him deemde. For curtesie suppose him Guy, or Guyons somewhat lesse: His life and manners though I would, I cannot halfe expresse. Nor Mouth, nor Minde, nor Muse can halfe declare, His Life, his Love, his Laude, so excellent they were. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES PUSSY-WILLOW TIME by ROBERT FROST NEW YEAR'S EVE by DAVID IGNATOW HEGIRA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HENRY PHIPPS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MAGRADY GRAHAM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |