To capture thoughts in words, lifeless and cold,
Presents a wall to scale, my courage daunts.
Do I expect to make my heart a font,
Flowing into letters, so easy told?
To say what fills my soul would be too bold,
As if my words come from a holy mont.
The tongues of men, they are too free, too wont
To babble on and think no story old.
Upon the backs of greatest men I stand,
They do inspire my mind to write anew,
Knowing full well their wit I cannot match.
So authors great, lend me a helping hand,
Give me your power, so that I may do
What you have done: words to my soul attach.
