| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | I. To Shakespeare | | By Frances Anne Kemble (1809–1893) |
| | | OFT, when my lips I open to rehearse | |
| Thy wondrous spells of wisdom, and of power, | |
| And that my voice, and thy immortal verse, | |
| On listening ears and hearts, I mingled pour, | |
| I shrink dismayed, and awful doth appear | 5 |
| 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! | 10 |
| 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! | | | | |
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