| SONNET 38 |
PARAPHRASE |
| How can my Muse want subject to invent, |
How can my poetry look for inspiration, |
| While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse |
While you breathe and pour into my writings |
| Thine own sweet argument, too excellent |
Your own theme, too excellent |
| For every vulgar paper to rehearse? |
Almost to special even to be put down on common paper? |
| O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me |
O, give yourself the thanks if anything I have written |
| Worthy perusal stand against thy sight; |
You find worthy to read; |
| For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee, |
For who is so dumb that he could not write about you, |
| When thou thyself dost give invention light? |
When you yourself show him how to proceed? |
| Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth |
Let you become the tenth Muse, ten times more valuable |
| Than those old nine which rhymers invocate; |
Than those old nine muses whom other poets invoke; |
| And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth |
And let he that calls upon you bring forth |
| Eternal numbers to outlive long date. |
Verse that will live on forever. |
| If my slight Muse do please these curious days, |
If my slight Muse does please these [living in such] critical times, |
| The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise. |
Let the effort and labour be mine and yours the praise. |
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