What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,The labor of an age in pilèd stones,Or that his hallowed relics should be hidUnder a star-ypointing pyramid?Dear son of Memory, great heir of fame,What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?Thou in our wonder and astonishmentHast built thyself a live-long monument.For whilst to th’ shame of …
When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hideLodged with me useless, though my soul more bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"I fondly ask. But Patience, to …
Continue reading Poetry: Milton – When I consider how my light is spent
Madelyn Rose Craig 