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。