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Astrophil and Stella Sonnet 74

"I never drank of Aganippe well,

Nor ever did in shade of Tempe sit;

And Muses scorn with vulgar brains to dwell;

Poor layman I, for sacred rites unfit.

Some do I hear of poets' fury tell,

But God wot, wot not what they mean by it;

And this I swear by blackest brook of hell,

I am no pick-purse of another's wit.

How falls it then that with so smooth an ease

My thoughts I speak, and what I speak doth flow

In verse, and that my verse best wits doth please?

Guess we the cause. "What, is it thus?" Fie no.

"Or so?" Much less. "How then?" Sure thus it is:

My lips are sweet, inspired with Stella's kiss."

Astrophil and Stella 74 pg. 1096

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"Helpe then, O holy Virgin cheife of nine,

Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will,

Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne

The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still."

The First Booke of The Faerie Queene pg. 781

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"The Utopians are very fond of these gardens of theirs. They raise vines, fruits, herbs, and flowers, so well cared for and flourishing that I have never seen any gardens more productive or elegant than theirs" Utopia, Book II, Sir Thomas More, p. 601

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