Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still

1My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,

2While comments of your praise richly compil'd,

3Reserve their character with golden quill,

4And precious phrase by all the Muses fil'd.

5I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words,

6And like unlettered clerk still cry 'Amen'

7To every hymn that able spirit affords,

8In polish'd form of well-refined pen.

9Hearing you praised, I say ''tis so, 'tis true,'

10And to the most of praise add something more;

11But that is in my thought, whose love to you,

12Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.

13 Then others, for the breath of words respect,

14 Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.