Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh br To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie br A little nearer Spenser, to make room br For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb. br To lodge all four in one bed, make a shift br Until Doomsday, for hardly will a fift br Betwixt this day and that by Fate be slain, br For whom your curtains may be drawn again. br If your precedency in death doth bar br A fourth place in your sacred sepulchre, br Under this carved marble of thine own, br Sleep, rare tragedian, Shakespeare, sleep alone; br Thy unmolested peace, unshared cave br Possess as lord, not tenant of thy grave, br That unto us and others it may be br Honour hereafter to be laid by thee.