My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still
While comments of your praise, richly compiled,
Reserve their character with golden quill
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
I think good thoughts whilst others write good words,
And like unlettered clerk still cry“Amen”
To every hymn that able spirit affords
In polished form of well-refined pen.
Hearing you praised, I say“'tis so, 'tis true,”
And to the most of praise add something more;
But that is in my thought, whose love to you,
Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.
Then others, for the breath of words respect,
Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
我的繆斯有禮貌,緘口無語,
其他的詩人無不搜索枯腸
用盡華美的詞語將你贊許,
他們的繆斯都在一旁幫腔。
我有好思想,他們有好言詞;
生花的妙筆寫出篇篇頌文
閃耀著金光,而我像傻牧師,
只懂得附和,一口一個“阿門!”
見別人稱贊你,我連連稱是,
并不斷為你喝彩,為你叫好——
但這都是我的思想,它愛你,
雖然言之為遲,思之卻最早。
對別人,請留意他們的言辭,
對于我,得審察無言的沉思。