Awake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master's humble taleIn sounds that may prevail;Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony. — Abraham Cowley Copy Share Image
Why to mute fish should'st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover? — Abraham Cowley Copy Share Image
