Notice to Bards and Scribblers

I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,

Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain:

Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow

Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burn'd brain.

But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay,

Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,

And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way.

Need some inspiration? 

Take a little visit to The Poetry Library on London's Southbank, which hosts the largest collection of poets and poetry in the UK. It's free to join, and they even offer advice on how to get your work published. That is, if you can find your Muse. 

Have a browse here.

Extract from 'Astrophil and Stella' by Sir Philip Sidney


AW