Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
These lines owe _nothing_ to any profundity of content; the content would fit a small-town weekly's report on a church bazaar. Yet they really are wonderful.
Like I say, Shakespeare is weird. These two lines reflect his difference from other poets in English: even when his words aren't saying much they somehow stick together so perfectly.
Carrol