Sonnet 101

  O truant Muse what shall be thy amends,
  For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
  Both truth and beauty on my love depends:
  So dost thou too, and therein dignified:
  Make answer Muse, wilt thou not haply say,
  'Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
  Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay:
  But best is best, if never intermixed'?
  Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
  Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee,
  To make him much outlive a gilded tomb:
  And to be praised of ages yet to be.
    Then do thy office Muse, I teach thee how,
    To make him seem long hence, as he shows now.