I WILL not weep, for 'twere as great a sin To shed a tear for thee, as to have bin An actor in thy death. Thy life and age Was but a various scene on fortune's stage, With whom thou tugg'st and strov'st ev'n out of breath In thy long toil: ne'er master'd till thy death; And then, despite of trains and cruel wit, Thou didst at once subdue malice and it. I dare not then so blast thy memory As say I do lament or pity thee. Were I to choose a subject to bestow My pity on, he should be one as low In spirit as desert; -- that durst not die, But rather were content by slavery To purchase life: or I would pity those, Thy most industrious and friendly foes; Who, when they thought to make thee scandal's story, Lent thee a swifter flight to Heav'n and glory; -- That thought, by cutting off some wither'd days (Which thou couldst spare them), to eclipse thy praise; Yet gave it brighter foil, made thy ag'd fame Appear more white and fair, than foul their shame: And did promote an execution Which (but for them) Nature and Age had done. Such worthless things as these were only born To live on Pity's alms (too mean for scorn). Thou diedst an envious wonder, whose high fate The world must still admire, scarce imitate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THOUGHTS ON THE COMMANDMENTS by GEORGE AUGUSTUS BAKER JR. APRIL, 1885 by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 18 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNET: TO HIS LUTE by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN THE MARCH INTO VIRGINIA by HERMAN MELVILLE VERSES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM OF A LADY'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK by THOMAS MOORE |