The Works of Michael Drayton Edited by J. William Hebel |
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 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
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[A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd]
A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,(Yet his dull Spirit her not one jot could move)
Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,
To write him but one Sonnet to his Love:
When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,
Powr'd out what first from quicke Invention came;
Nor never stood one word thereof to blot,
Much like his Wit, that was to use the same:
But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,
Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.
But see, for you to Heav'n for Phraze I runne,
And ransacke all Apollo's golden Treasure;
Yet by my Froth, this Foole his Love obtaines,
And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |