Act I, Scene 55

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• Shakespeare. Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
  Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
  But you shall shine more bright in these contents
  Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time. 760
  When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
  And broils root out the work of masonry,
  Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
  The living record of your memory.
  'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity 765
  Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
  Even in the eyes of all posterity
  That wear this world out to the ending doom.
  So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
  You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes. 770