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 fix'd;

Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;

But best is best, if never intermix'd?'

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.

偷懒的诗神呵，你将怎样补救

你对那被美渲染的真的怠慢？

真和美都与我的爱相依相守；

你也一样，要倚靠它才得通显。

说吧，诗神；你或许会这样回答：

"真的固定色彩不必用色彩绘；

美也不用翰墨把美的真容画；

用不着搀杂，完美永远是完美。

难道他不需要赞美，你就不作声？

别替缄默辩护，因为你有力量

使他比镀金的坟墓更享遐龄，

并在未来的年代永受人赞扬。

　　当仁不让吧，诗神，我要教你怎样

　　使他今后和现在一样受景仰。