Classic Poem

The Muses fairest light in no darke time,
The Wonder of a learned Age; the Line
Which none can passe; the most proportion'd Witt ,
To Nature, the best Judge of what was fit;
The deepest, plainest, highest, cleerest Pen ;
The Voice most eccho'd by consenting Men ,
The Soule which answer'd best to all well said
By others, and which most requitall made,
Tun'd to the highest Key of ancient R OME ,
Returning all her Musique with his owne ,
In whom with Nature, Studie claim'd a part,
And yet who to himselfe ow'd all his Art :
Heere lies B EN : I OHNSON , every Age will looke
With sorrow heere, with wonder on his B OOKE .