YE learned sisters which haue oftentimes <br />beene to me ayding, others to adorne: <br />Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes, <br />That euen the greatest did not greatly scorne <br />To heare theyr names sung in your simply layes, <br />But ioyed in theyr prayse. <br />And when ye lift your owne mishaps to mourne, <br />Which death, or loue, or fortunes wreck did rayse, <br />Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne, <br />And teach the woods and waters to lament <br />Your dolefull dreriment. <br />Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside, <br />And hauing all your heads with girland crownd, <br />Helpe me mine owne loues prayses to resound, <br />Ne let the same of any be enuide, <br />So Orpheus did for his owne bride, <br />So I vnto my selfe alone will sing, <br />The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-1/
