Ere England Shakspeare saw, or Rome,
The pure perfection of her dome.
Others, I doubt not, if not we,
The issue of our toils shall see;
Young children gather as their own
The harvest that the dead have sown—
The dead, forgotten and unknown.
Let me sign myself, my dear sir (as we are all ‘strangers and pilgrims,’ so myself in an especial sense),
Your faithful and obliged
Parepidemus.
II.