Myself survived my well-contented day,

Once churl Death my bones with dust did cover,

I will never be compounded with clay,

These rich great lines will survive forever!!

Compare them with the bettering of the time,

Yet, they are not outstripp’d by any pen,

Reserve them for both,best quality and rhyme,

Exceeded never by height of happier men.

O, Intellectuals today have this proving thought:

‘‘Nobody’s Muse has grown like Will’s to this age,

Dearest birth that this Shakespeare has brought, 

 To lead march in ranks of best equipage;

                  But since he died, no poets better prove

             So,into Will’s quatercentenary we move.’’