Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
IdeaSonnet 21. A witless Gallant, a young wench that wooed
Michael Drayton (1563–1631)[First printed in 1619. ]
A
(Yet his dull spirit, her not one jot could move),
Intreated me, as e’er I wished his good,
To write him but one Sonnet to his Love.
When I, as fast as e’er my pen could trot,
Poured out what first from quick Invention came;
Nor never stood one word thereof to blot:
Much like his wit, that was to use the same.
But with my verses, he his Mistress won;
Who doated on the dolt beyond all measure.
But see! For you, to heaven for phrase I run,
And ransack all A
Yet by my froth, this Fool, his Love obtains:
And I lose you, for all my wit and pains!