Sonnet 101
O truant Muse what shall be thy amendsFor thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?Both truth and beauty on my love depends;So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer Muse: wilt thou not haply say,'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed;Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;But best is best, if never intermixed'?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?Excuse not silence so, for't lies in theeTo make him much outlive a gilded tombAnd to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee howTo make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.