The speaker addresses his Muse directly, even calling her "Muse"; he audaciously instructs her to inspire only the artist who has skill and right understanding, that is, of course, himself.
Where art thou Muse that thou forget’st so long,
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
The speaker addresses his Muse directly, even calling her "Muse"; he audaciously instructs her to inspire only the artist who has skill and right understanding, that is, of course, himself.
Where art thou Muse that thou forget’st so long,
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
