Classic Poem

He is not dead yet: but dull.

Did I proclaime thee dead before the time
Parden my forward rime
That tooke it up of Fame who's sayd to lie
Yet so't became the truer Poetry
Which though brought forth in hast's not blind but sees
Sithence on the lees
The better part thy witt runns, and noe spirit
Retaines but what the times past did inherit
Soe that thy play is done; the people may
Expecting of a farcey stay
And cry he comes again: but if that loome
Be spunn out too, thoul't find noe sanctuary
But in the Tiering-roome.