Astrophel and Stella: III

Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine,That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told;Or, Pindar's apes, flaunt they in phrases fine,Enam'ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold.Or else let them in statelier glory shine,Ennobling newfound tropes with problems old;Or with strange similes enrich each line,Of herbs or beasts which Ind or Afric hold.For me, in sooth, no Muse but one I know;

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