How can my Muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse.
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent .
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me .
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth.
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;