O youths and virgins: o declining eld: <br />O pale misfortune's slaves: o ye who dwell <br />Unknown with humble quiet; ye who wait <br />In courts, or fill the golden seat of kings: <br />O sons of sport and pleasure: o thou wretch <br />That weep'st for jealous love, or the sore wounds <br />Of conscious guilt, or death's rapacious hand <br />Which left thee void of hope: o ye who roam <br />In exile; ye who through the embattled field <br />Seek bright renown; or who for nobler palms <br />Contend, the leaders of a public cause; <br />Approach: behold this marble. Know ye not <br />The features? Hath not oft his faithful tongue <br />Told you the fashion of your own estate, <br />The secrets of your bosom? Here then, round <br />His monument with reverence while ye stand, <br />Say to each other: “This was Shakespear's form; <br />“Who walk'd in every path of human life, <br />“Felt every passion; and to all mankind <br />“Doth now, will ever, that experience yield <br />“Which his own genius only could acquire.”<br /><br />Mark Akenside<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inscriptions-iv-o-youths-and-virgins/
