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Sonnets: Idea IX

By Michael Drayton

Topics: classic

As other men, so I myself do muse     Why in this sort I wrest invention so,     And why these giddy metaphors I use,     Leaving the path the greater part do go.         I will resolve you. I'm a lunatic;     And ever this in madmen you shall find,     What they last thought of when the brain grew sick,     In most distraction they keep that in mind.         Thus talking idly in this bedlam fit,     Reason and I, you must conceive, are twain;     'Tis nine years now since first I lost my wit.     Bear with me then though troubled be my brain.         With diet and correction men distraught,         Not too far past, may to their wits be brought.

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"As other men, so I myself do muse..."

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"As other men, so I myself do muse..." by Michael Drayton

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Michael Drayton

About Michael Drayton

Michael Drayton (1563–1631) was an English poet whose "Poly-Olbion" (1612–1622) is a vast topographical poem describing the landscape and legends of England and Wales. His sonnet "Since there's no help" is among the finest of the Elizabethan era.

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"DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,         Autumne waxing ..."

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