| J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921. | | | | To a Friend who Persuades me to Leave the Muse | | By Elizabeth (Singer) Rowe (1674–1737) |
| | | FORGO the charming Muses! No, in spite | |
| Of your ill-natur’d prophecy I’ll write; | |
| And for the future paint my thoughts at large, | |
| I waste no paper at the Hundred’s charge: | |
| I rob no neighb’ring geese of quills, nor slink, | 5 |
| For a collection, to the church for ink: | |
| Beside, my Muse is the most gentle thing | |
| That ever yet made an attempt to sing: | |
| I call no lady punk, nor gallants fops, | |
| Nor set the married world an edge for ropes; | 10 |
| Yet I’m so nat’rally inclin’d to rhyming, | |
| That undesign’d, my thoughts burst out a-chiming; | |
| My active genius will by no means sleep, | |
| Pray let it then its proper channel keep. | |
| I’ve told you, and you may believe me too, | 15 |
| That I must this, or greater mischief do; | |
| And let the world think me inspir’d or mad, | |
| I’ll surely write whilst paper ’s to be had. | | | | |
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