Classic Poem

What moved me then? say, Love, for thou canst tell:
Of thee I learned this skill, if skill I have.
Thou knowest the Muse, whose help I always crave,
Is none of those that on Parnassus dwell.
My muse is such as doth them all excel;
They all to her alone their cunning gave,
To sing, to dance, to play, to make so brave:
Thrice threefold graces her alone befel.
From her do flow the streams that water me;
Hers is the praise, if I a poet be;
Her only look both will and skill doth give.
What marvel then if I those laws refuse,
Which other poets in their making use,
Since by her looks I write, by which I live!