“
The waters were his winding sheet, the sea was made for his tomb;Yet for his fame the ocean sea, was not sufficient room.
— Richard Barnfield
The waters were his winding sheet, the sea was made for his tomb;Yet for his fame the ocean sea, was not sufficient room.
As it fell upon a daySave the nightingale alone.
King Pandion, he is dead,All thy friends are lapped in lead.
Every one that flatters theeNo man will supply thy want.
If music and sweet poetry agree.Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other.
