名人诗歌|THE SONNETS by William Shakespeare (100)

C

Where art thou Muse^{1 that thou forget'st so long, To speak of that which gives thee all thy might？ Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song, Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light？ Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem2, In gentle numbers time so idly spent； Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem3 And gives thy pen both skill and argument. Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey, If Time have any wrinkle graven there； If any, be a satire4 to decay, And make time's spoils despised every where. Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life, So thou prevent'st his scythe5 and crooked6 knife.}