Compels me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not float upon his wat'ry bear
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of some melodious tear.
-Milton, "Lycidas," 6-14