The buskin’d Muse, the Comic Queen, the grand And louder tone of Clio; nimble hand, And nimbler foot of the melodious pair, The silver voiced Lady; the most fair Calliope, whose speaking silence daunts, And she whose praise the heavenly body chants. These jointly woo’d him, envying one another (Obey’d by all as spouse, but lov’d as brother), And wrought a curious robe of sable grave, Fresh green, and pleasant yellow, red most brave, And constant blue, rich purple, guiltless white, The lowly russet, and the scarlet bright; Branch’d and embroider’d like the painted Spring, Each leaf match’d with a flower, and each string Of golden wire, each line of silk; there run Italian works whose thread the Sisters spun; And there did sing, or seem to sing, the choice Birds of a foreign note and various voice. Here hangs a mossy rock; there plays a fair But chiding fountain purled; not the air, Nor clouds nor thunder, but were living drawn, Not out of common tiffany or lawn, But fine materials, which the Muses know, And only know the countries where they grow. Now, when they could no longer him enjoy In mortal garments pent, death may destroy, They say, his body, but his verse shall live; And more than nature takes, our hands shall give. In a less volume, but more strongly bound, Shakespeare shall breath and speak, with laurel crown’d Which never fades. Fed with Ambrosian meat, In a well-lined vesture rich and neat. So with this robe they clothe him, bid him wear it; For time shall never stain, nor envy tear it. The friendly admirer of his Endowments, I. M. S. Prefixed to the Second Folio Edition of Shakespeare’s _Works_. 1632. Conjectures as to the authorship of this poem have been numerous. Coleridge in his _Lectures on Shakespeare_ says: “This poem is subscribed I. M. S., meaning, as some have explained, the initials “John Milton, Student”: the internal evidence seems to us decisive; for there was, I think, no other man, of that particular day, capable of writing anything so characteristic of Shakespeare, so justly thought, and so happily expressed.” JOHN HALES, BEFORE 1633 (1584-1656)