Thy Reliques, Rowe! to this sad Shrine we trust, And near thy Shakespear place thy honour'd Bust, Oh next him skill'd to draw the tender Tear, For never Heart felt Passion more sincere: To nobler Sentiment to fire the Brave, For never Briton more disdain'd a Slave! Peace to thy gentle Shade, and endless Rest, Blest in thy Genius, in thy Love too blest; And blest, that timely from Our Scene remov'd Thy Soul enjoys that Liberty it lov'd. To these, so mourn'd in Death, so lov'd in Life! The childless Parent and the widow'd Wife With tears inscribes this monumental Stone, That holds their Ashes and expects her own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY A DISCRETE LOVE POEM by JAMES GALVIN I WANT TO LIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE HARD TIMES IN ELFLAND; A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE by SIDNEY LANIER CHILD OF MY HEART by EDWIN MARKHAM HOW THE GREAT GUEST CAME by EDWIN MARKHAM |