An Apology

Listen! I also have a lady fair,
Whose praise in many a passionate rhyme should ring,
Were I not weak, for all love's licensing,
The wonder of her beauty to declare;
And while your lady's loveliness you blare,
I tremble lest my notes fail on the string.
Lest men that hear me, question, wondering,
"Was't beauty that inspired so poor an air?"

Yet when all songs are sung, all praises told.
And you demand with your last proudest tone
Men's verdict — is the prize for his or mine? —
I shall but show my Love, saying "Behold,
What song shall match her?" And all men shall own
Your words less weak, my Lady more divine.