You, who to fam'd Guarini, now he's dead, Your verses consecrate, and statues rear, For that sweet Padan swan your tears have shed, Sweetest that ever did, or will sing here. Behold this picture on his fun'ral pile, Your mournful spirits 'twill with joy revive, Tho' th' artist cheats your senses all the while, For 'tis but paint which you would swear does live. This serves to keep our friend in memory, Since Death hath robb'd us of his better part, And that he so might live as ne'er to die, He drew himself too, but with diff'rent art. Judge, which with greatest life and spirit looks, Borgianni's Painting, or Guarini's Books. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE by THOMAS WYATT A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER by ROBERT BURNS ON A VIRTUOUS YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN THAT DIED SUDDENLY by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT ODE ON THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER by JORGE MANRIQUE THE DARK FOREST by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS IN SCHOOL-DAYS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |