Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Idea
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet 21. A witless Gallant, a young wench that wooed
Michael Drayton (1563–1631)
[First printed in 1619.]

A WITLESS Gallant, a young wench that wooed
(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,        5
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.        10
But see! For you, to heaven for phrase I run,
And ransack all APOLLO’s golden treasure!
  Yet by my froth, this Fool, his Love obtains:
  And I lose you, for all my wit and pains!

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