 | Poems by John B. Tabb |  |
54
YORICK'S SKULL.
Poor jester! still upon the stage,Chap-fallen flung,
Where merry clowns from age to age
Thy dirge have sung;
Yet more than Eloquence may reach,
Thought-heights among:
'T is thine, humanity to teach,
Sans brains or tongue.
| Poems by John B. Tabb | |