25.06.2007, 12:39
To Shakespeare
Oft, when her lips I open to rehearse
Thy wondrous spells of wisdom, and a power,
And that my voice, and thy immortal verse,
On listening ears and hearts, I mingled pour,
I shrink dismayed, and awful doth appear
The vain presumption of my own weak deed;
Thy glorious spirit seems to mine so near,
That suddenly I tremble as I read.
Thee an invisible auditor I fear.
O, if it might be so, my master dear!
With what beseeching would I pray to thee,
To make me equal to my noble task!
Succor from thee how humbly would’ I ask,
Thy worthiest works to utter worthily!
Oft, when her lips I open to rehearse
Thy wondrous spells of wisdom, and a power,
And that my voice, and thy immortal verse,
On listening ears and hearts, I mingled pour,
I shrink dismayed, and awful doth appear
The vain presumption of my own weak deed;
Thy glorious spirit seems to mine so near,
That suddenly I tremble as I read.
Thee an invisible auditor I fear.
O, if it might be so, my master dear!
With what beseeching would I pray to thee,
To make me equal to my noble task!
Succor from thee how humbly would’ I ask,
Thy worthiest works to utter worthily!