by: William Shakespeare
- OW can my Muse want subject to invent
- While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
- Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
- For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
- O, give thyself the thanks if aught in me
- Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
- For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee
- When thou thyself dost give invention light?
- Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
- Than those old nine which rimers invocate;
- And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
- Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
- If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
- The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
MORE POEMS BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
"Sonnet #38" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted