What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,—
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Epitaph on Shakespeare.
And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie,
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Epitaph on Shakespeare.