William Shakespeare's Sonnet XVII
⠀⠀⠀Who will believe my verse in time to come,
⠀⠀⠀If it were filled with your most high deserts?
⠀⠀⠀Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
⠀⠀⠀Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
⠀⠀⠀If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
⠀⠀⠀And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
⠀⠀⠀The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
⠀⠀⠀Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.'
⠀⠀⠀So should my papers, yellowed with their age,
⠀⠀⠀Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
⠀⠀⠀And your true rights be termed a poet's rage
⠀⠀⠀And stretched metre of an antique song:
⠀⠀⠀⠀ But were some child of yours alive that time,
⠀⠀⠀⠀ You should live twice, in it, and in my rime.
Music by Kevin MacLeod
"Sad Trio" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Lead-in and ending by Ferrick Gray.