Shakespeare's Sonnets: Where art thou, muse, that thou forget'st so long

Where art thou, muse, that thou forget'st so longTo speak of that which gives thee all thy might?Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,Dark'ning thy pow'r to lend base subjects light?Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,In gentle numbers, time so idly spent,Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteemAnd gives thy pen both skill and argument.Rise, resty muse, my love's sweet face surveyIf time have any wrinkle graven there,If any, be a satire to decayAnd make time's spoils despisèd every where. Give my love fame faster than time wastes life, So thou prevent'st his scythe and crookèd knife.