Part 3 — TO MY VERY GOOD FRIEND, MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

It’s not because I know that you Are really what the World has found you, That I collect and tell anew The tributes that have gathered round you. Not moved to tread the lofty ways Of those great souls who turned their powers, As duty-bounden, to your praise, Weave I this little wreath of flowers. You have, I know, a “myriad mind,” A “honey tongue” to tell a story; You left poor “panting Time” behind, (See Johnson) in the race for glory— ’Tis true. But when all’s said and done, With thought and rhetoric impassioned, You’ve been, and are, a Friend to one Whose mind is not supremely fashioned.