To Miracle <br /> <br />Some, misbelieving and profane in love, <br />When I do speak of miracles by thee, <br />May say, that thou art flattered by me, <br />Who only write my skill in verse to prove. <br />See miracles, ye unbelieving, see <br />A dumb-born Muse made t'express the mind, <br />A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, <br />One by thy name, the other touching thee; <br />Blind were mine eyes, till they were seen of thine, <br />And mine ears deaf by thy fame healed be, <br />My vices cur'd by virtues sprung from thee, <br />My hopes reviv'd, which long in grave had lien, <br />All unclean thoughts, foul spirits, cast out in me <br />Only by virtue that proceeds from thee.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxv-some-misbelieving/
