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- LXXVIII
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- So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse
- And found such fair assistance in my verse
- As every alien pen hath got my use
- And under thee their poesy disperse.
- Thine eyes that taught the dumb on high to sing
- And heavy ignorance aloft to fly
- Have added feathers to the learned’s wing
- And given grace a double majesty.
- Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
- Whose influence is thine and born of thee:
- In others’ works thou dost but mend the style,
- And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
- But thou art all my art and dost advance
- As high as learning my rude ignorance.
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