#85 My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise richly compil'd, Reserve their character with golden quill, And precious phrase by all the Muses fil'd. I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words, And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen, To every hymn that able spirit affords, In polish'd form of well refined pen. Hearing you prais'd, I say 'tis so, 'tis true, And to the most of praise add something more, But that is in my thought, whose love to you (Though words come hind-most) holds his rank before, Then others, for the breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect. I have pronounced "clerk" as it was originally written, "clarke," as I think that gets across the origin word - "cleric" - best. I'm in the process of reading all Shakespeare's sonnets aloud. My interpretation is drawn from the 1609 quarto, as emended by CD Atkins.
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