On Mr. Wm. Shakespeare, he died in April 1616

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nighTo learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lieA little nearer Spenser to make roomFor Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb.To lodge all four in one bed make a shiftUntil Doomsday, for hardly will a fifthBetwixt this day and that by fate be slainFor whom your curtains may be drawn again.If your precedency in death doth barA fourth place in your sacred sepulchre,Under this carved marble of thine ownSleep rare tragedian Shakespeare, sleep alone,Thy unmolested peace, unshared cave,Possess as lord not tenant of thy grave,That unto us and others it may beHonour hereafter to be laid by thee.