On the Death of Antony Samuel Barber

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Noblest of men, woo't die?
Hast thou no care of me?
O see, my women
The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
O withered is the garland of the war:
The soldier's pole is fallen: young boys and girls
Are level now with men

The odds is gone:
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon

I dream't there was an Emperor Antony
O such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm crested the world
His delights were dolphin like, they showed his back
Above the element they lived in

Think you there was, or might be, such a man
As this I dreamed of?

Gentle madam, no!

You lie, up to the hearing of the gods
But if there be, or ever were one such
It's past the size of dreaming