Classic Poem

Hail! disembodied spirit hail!
While tears for thee dim mortal eyes,
And earthly bards their loss bewail,
Thy Shakespeare meets thee in the skies.

And while a grateful world shall give
Deserved honors to thy name,
My no less grateful thanks receive,
Who to thy care could trust my fame.

Thou, in my fav'rite Rosalind,
Wert all I wish'd the maid to be,
And all my Portia's charms combin'd,
Dear daughter, I beheld in thee.

For me thou couldst thyself divest
Of ev'ry mild attractive grace,
Could'st rouse ambition in thy breast,
And guilt through all its horrors trace.

Thy nervous sense, thy lively wit,
With judgment mark'd my various strains, —
So nicely portray'd what I writ,
Fiction was banish'd from the scenes.

See other bards approach to greet
Thy spirit with celestial song:
Thee too, my Garrick comes to meet,
And with him leads a favour'd throng.

Our spirits, freed from hoary Time,
Look down serenely on the tomb;
For here, enjoying bliss sublime,
They flourish in eternal bloom.