What point of morals, of manners, of economy, of philosophy, of religion, of taste, of the conduct of life, has he not settled? What mystery has he not signified his knowledge of? What office, or function, or district of man's work, has he not remembered? What king has he not taught state, as Talma taught Napoleon? What maiden has not found him finer than her delicacy? What lover has be not outloved? What sage has he not outseen? What gentleman has he not instructed in the rudeness of his behavior?
Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!
If we wish to know the force of human genius we should read Shakespeare. If we wish to see the insignificance of human learning we may study his commentators.
Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting Quill
Commandeth Mirth or Passion, was but Will. Thomas Heywood—Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels </poem>
The stream of Time, which is continually
washing the dissoluble fabrics of other poets,
passes without injury by the adamant of Shakspere.
| author = Samuel Johnson
| work = Preface to Works ofShaksI remember, the players have often mentioned
it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out
a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.
Ben Jonson—Discoveries. De Shakespeare
nosirat.
This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.
Ben Jonson—Lines on a Picture of ShakesHe was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory of Shakespeare.
Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,
As since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory of Shakesio Soul of the Age!
The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage!
My Shakespeare rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont he
A little further off, to make thee room:
Thou art a monument without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live
And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory of Shakespeare -
| seealso = (See also Basse)
Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were
To see thee in our water yet appear.
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory of ShakesFor a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly
shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory of ShakesThou hadst small Latin and less Greek.
Ben Jonson—Lines to the Memory ofShakesShakespeare is not our poet, but the world's,
Therefore on him no speech!
Walteb Savage Landor—To Robert Browning. L. 5.
Then to the well-trod stage anon
If Jonson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
| author = Milton
| work = V Allegro. L. 131.
What needs my Shakespeare for "his honored bones
The labors of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallowed rehques should be hid
Under a starre-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of Memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hath built thyself a livelong monument.
| author = Milton
entire epitaph are found in the epitaph on Sir Thomas Stanley, supposed to have been written by Shakespeare. Also, same
ideas found in Crashaw.
Shakspeare (whom you and every playhouse bill
Style the divine! the matchless! what you will),
For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight,
And grew immortal in his own despite.
