Alack, what poverty my Muse¹ brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside!
O, blame me not, if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar² the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
  And more, much more, than in my verse can sit
  Your own glass shows you when you look in it.

我的诗神的产品多贫乏可怜！
分明有无限天地可炫耀才华，
可是她的题材，尽管一无妆点，
比加上我的赞美价值还要大！
别非难我，如果我写不出什么！
照照镜子吧，看你镜中的面孔
多么超越我的怪笨拙的创作，
使我的诗失色，叫我无地自容。
那可不是罪过吗，努力要增饰，
反而把原来无瑕的题材涂毁？
因为我的诗并没有其他目的，
除了要模仿你的才情和妩媚；
　　是的，你的镜子，当你向它端详，
　　所反映的远远多于我的诗章。