THIS is the holy missal Shakespeare wrote, For friends to ponder when they grieve alone; Within these collects his great heart would note Its joy and fear, its ecstasy and moan; Our strength and weakness each was felt by him; He yearned and shrank, rejoiced and hoped and bled; Nor ever will his sacred song be dim, Though he himself, the Friend of Friends, is dead. Then, on sad evenings when you think of me, Or when the morn seems blithe, yet I not near, Open this book, and read, and I shall be The metre murmuring at your bended ear; I cannot write my love with Shakespeare's art, But the same burden weighs upon my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-DECEPTION by MATTHEW ARNOLD INTIMATE VISION by JOSEPHINE BATES STILL DAYS AND STORMY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON NUNC ET CAMPUS, ET AREAEUM ... by JOHN BYROM EPIGRAM: 13. DIALOGUE WITH THE DEAD by CALLIMACHUS SLEEP, HOLY BABE by EDWARD CASWALL IN MENDACEM; EPIGRAM by CHARLES COTTON POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 6. THE FAREWELL AND RETURN by GEORGE CRABBE |