Текст оригинала на английском языке
To the True Patroness of All Poetry, Calliope
It is a statute in deep wisdom's lore, That for his lines none should a patron chuse By wealth and poverty, by less or more, But who the same is able to peruse: Nor ought a man his labour dedicate, Without a true and sensible desert, To any power of such a mighty state But such a wise defendress as thou art Thou great and powerful Muse, then pardon me That I presume thy maiden cheek to stain In dedicating such a work to thee, Sprung from the issue of an idle brain: I use thee as a woman ought to be, I consecrate my idle hours to thee.
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