Where art thou Muse that thou forget'st so long, <br />To speak of that which gives thee all thy might? <br />Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song, <br />Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light? <br />Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem, <br />In gentle numbers time so idly spent; <br />Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem <br />And gives thy pen both skill and argument. <br />Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey, <br />If Time have any wrinkle graven there; <br />If any, be a satire to decay, <br />And make time's spoils despised every where. <br />Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life, <br />So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-100-where-art-thou-muse-that-thou-forget-st-so-long/
