O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

　　For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?

　　Both truth and beauty on my love depends;

　　So dost thou too, and therein dignified.

　　Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say

　　'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;

　　Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;

　　But best is best, if never intermix'd?'

　　Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?

　　Excuse not silence so; for't lies in thee

　　To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,

　　And to be praised of ages yet to be.

　　Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how

　　To make him seem long hence as he shows now.

　　偷懒的诗神呵，你将怎样补救

　　你对那被美渲染的真的怠慢?

　　真和美都与我的爱相依相守;

　　你也一样，要倚靠它才得通显。

　　说吧，诗神;你或许会这样回答：

　　"真的固定色彩不必用色彩绘;

　　美也不用翰墨把美的真容画;

　　用不着搀杂，完美永远是完美。"

　　难道他不需要赞美，你就不作声?

　　别替缄默辩护，因为你有力量

　　使他比镀金的坟墓更享遐龄，

　　并在未来的年代永受人赞扬。

　　当仁不让吧，诗神，我要教你怎样

　　使他今后和现在一样受景仰。