William Shakespeare
On the Death of Cleopatra
Take up her bed
She looks like sleep
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace

Take up her bed
She looks like sleep
And bear her women from the monument
She shall be buried by her Antony
No grave on earth shall clasp in it
A pair so famous
Our army shall
In solemn show attend this funeral
And then to Rome