the marlowe society - sonnet 38 lyrics
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how 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 rehe+rs+?
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 rhymers 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
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