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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 unletter'd clerk still cry 'Amen'
To every hymn that able spirit affords
In polish'd 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. 我的缄口的诗神只脉脉无语；
他们对你的美评却累牍连篇，
用金笔刻成辉煌夺目的大字，
和经过一切艺神雕琢的名言。
我满腔热情，他们却善颂善祷；
像不识字的牧师只知喊"阿门"，
去响应才子们用精炼的笔调
熔铸成的每一首赞美的歌咏。
听见人赞美你，我说，"的确，很对"，
凭他们怎样歌颂我总嫌不够；
但只在心里说，因为我对你的爱
虽拙于词令，行动却永远带头。
那么，请敬他们，为他们的虚文；
敬我，为我的哑口无言的真诚。 | 
