Sorrow and Honor were at strife To wayle thy death or praise thy lief. Sorrow for thee a Toombe would frame, Honor would Epitaphe the same. But Fame doth challenge both those cares Who for thy worth her Trump prepares. Which in her Temple rings thy Knell, Where thou in death, dost living dwell. Thy Toomb shee builds in Bedfords brest, Where Sorrow doth with Honor rest. Which loves inscription on it beares, Ingrav'd with thy deare Mothers teares. And for thy sake, Ile kisse that ground Where such another flower is found. Meane while may noble hearts lament, Soe great a Treasure soe soone spent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 8. FLORENCE by SARA TEASDALE UPON A DYING LADY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE PASSIONATE MAN'S PILGRIMAGE by WALTER RALEIGH DRINKING ODE by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE THE BLUNDER by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE ELDER WOMAN'S SONG: 3, FR. KING LEAR'S WIFE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |