So is it not with me as with that Muse

Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,

Who heaven itself for ornament doth use

And every fair with his fair doth rehearse

Making a couplement of proud compare,

With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,

With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare

That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.

O' let me, true in love, but truly write,

And then believe me, my love is as fair

As any mother's child, though not so bright

As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:

Let them say more than like of hearsay well;

I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

我的詩神①并不像那一位詩神

只知運用脂粉涂抹他的詩句，

連蒼穹也要搬下來作妝飾品，

羅列每個佳麗去贊他的佳麗，

用種種浮夸的比喻作成對偶，

把他比太陽、月亮、海陸的瑰寶，

四月的鮮花，和這浩蕩的宇宙

蘊藏在它的懷里的一切奇妙。

哦，讓我既真心愛，就真心歌唱，

而且，相信我，我的愛可以媲美

任何母親的兒子，雖然論明亮

比不上掛在天空的金色燭臺。

誰喜歡空話，讓他盡說個不窮；

我志不在出售，自用不著禱頌。