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An Epitaph On The Admirable Dramatic Poet W. Shakespeare

Rating: 2.8
What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones
The labor of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thy self a livelong monument.
For whilst, to th' shame of slow-endeavoring art,
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
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COMMENTS
Fabrizio Frosini 15 October 2015
this poem was written by John Milton in 1630
4 1 Reply
Michael Gale 23 February 2009
Quite, thy erst'while poet... Tho'he ne're kno'it. Lo' he went well blind, in'visioned, speak... Lest ye words, unheaded leak? In trouble'd with thy steadied law... In health, hath plum'ted to a most slow paced, crawl. Great poem, God bless us all-MJG.
6 3 Reply

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