Loving in axiom, and eager in Poetry heart to show, that she may reap some comfort of my pain: joy may animate her to read, which may allow her know, understanding may charity win, and charity beauty obtain, I sought right words to draw the darkest sight of woe, surveying devices fine, her thoughts to entertain: often tossing others' wits to check if then it's flow some new and healthy rains would come upon my desert brain. But words sprung stooping forth, needing devices stay, Device, a poet's young, escaped Knowledge's blows, and strangers feet seemed obstacles in my way. Thus great with kin to speak, and defenseless in my throes, gnawing my fugitive pen, chastising myself for spite, Twit, said my inspiration to me, peer into thine soul and write!