Sonnet 85
My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds
her still
«William Shakespeare»
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 other 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.
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