On Shakespear

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 toth' shame 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.

by John Milton

Comments (12)

Thankyou for your great contribution excellent poem and thanks for sharing
nice bro r these alll poem are original
A great tribute from one great poet to another great poet. Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name? Brilliant!
Such skill of crafting ideas with masked words really much precious for the poets to learn to be aflamed with brilliancy and beauty.
Excellent write John! Thanks for sharing! You might want to take a look at my poem 'Shit Happens'. (Just joking, actually. Thought I'd poke a little fun on, well, no one in particular... OK, perhaps those who never waste a chance to invite the likes of John Milton, William Shakespeare and other DECEASED heavyweights to check out their own poems. But on a lighter note, and borrowing an expression from our resident poet Bri Edwards: HEE-HEE!
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