On Shakespear
John Milton
What needs my Shakespear for his honour’d Bones, The labour of an age in piled Stones, Or that his hallow’d reliques should be hid Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, What need’st thou such weak witnes of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thy self a live-long Monument. For whilst to th’sharne of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart Hath from the Leaves of thy unvalu’d Book, Those Delphick lines with deep impression took, Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving, Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving; And so Sepulcher’d in such pomp dost lie, That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.
Next 10 Poems
- John Milton : On The Death Of A Fair Infant Dying Of A Cough
- John Milton : On The Lord Gen. Fairfax At The Seige Of Colchester
- John Milton : On The Morning Of Christs Nativity
- John Milton : On The New Forcers Of Conscience Under The Long Parliament
- John Milton : On The Religious Memory Of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, My Christian Friend, Deceased Dec. 16, 1646
- John Milton : On The Same
- John Milton : On The University Carrier Who Sickn'd In The Time Of His Vacancy, Being Forbid To Go To London, By Reason Of The Plague
- John Milton : On Time
- John Milton : Paradise Lost
- John Milton : Paradise Lost: Book 01
Previous 10 Poems
- John Milton : On His Blindness
- John Milton : Methought I Saw My Late Espoused Saint
- John Milton : Lycidas
- John Milton : Light
- John Milton : L'allegro
- John Milton : Il Penseroso
- John Milton : Hymn On The Morning Of Christ's Nativity
- John Milton : How Soon Hath Time
- John Milton : From 'samson Agonistes' I
- John Milton : From 'arcades'
