Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
缪斯，你在何方？为什么许久以来
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
你沉默，竞把你力量的源泉忘怀。
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
你徒费狂放的诗情于陈词滥调，
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
让你的诗威屈尊于卑贱的题材。
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
归来吧，健忘的诗神，年华已虚度，
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
何妨奏壮歌一曲方不负诗才。
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
将你的歌唱传向知音者的耳朵，
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
是他们赋予你的健笔主题和文采。
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
起来，慵困的诗神，快端详我爱的面庞，
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
看有否长沟横渠在上面铺排。
If any, be a satire to decay,
如果有，就写下讽刺衰朽的诗句，
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
好让时光的劫掠品处处无人踩。
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
快，趁我残生未了，使我爱名远扬，
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
我就再也不怕无常横剑刈老除衰。
