doo I thus crie, And grieve that my remembrance quite is raced* Out of the knowledge of posteritie, And all my antique moniments defaced?

Even this verse, vowd to eternity, Shall be thereof immortall moniment, And tell her praise to all posterity, That may admire such worlds rare wonderment; The happy purchase of my glorious spoile, Gotten at last with labour and long toyle.

It chaunced me on* day beside the shore Of silver streaming Thamesis to bee, Nigh where the goodly Verlame stood of yore, Of which there now remaines no memorie, Nor anie little moniment to see, 5 By which the travailer that fares that way

Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights, Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine, Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine, Triumphant arcks, spyres neighbours to the skie, That you to see doth th'heaven it selfe appall, Alas!

Rome, living, was the worlds sole ornament; And, dead, is now the worlds sole moniment.