LXXIV. I never drank of Aganippe’s well

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

I NEVER drank of Aganippe’s well;

Nor never 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.