II

"I’ll not trawl the Greek seas with my nets"
 
I’ll not trawl the Greek seas with my nets,
Nor Horace’s fine lines will I retrace,
Less do I aspire to Petrarch’s grace,
Or Ronsard’s voice, in singing my Regrets.
 
Those who are Apollo’s true sacred poets
Will grant their verse a bold fiery face:
I, filled with an inspiration low and base,
Am not so learned in their deepest secrets.
 
I’ll content myself with writing anything
That passion itself summons me to sing,
Without seeking any other argument.
 
Thus I’ve not sought their claims to rehearse
Who boast that they’ll live on in their verse,
And so survive the grave’s dark monument.