 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
HAMLET AGAIN.
“To be or not to be!” Ay, there we haveThe key-note of the symphony; 'tis all
In “flats,” like prelude to a funeral!
One from, doth usher many to the grave!
'Tis like a funeral procession; save
That those who walk in it, whom we should call
Chief mourners, in the grave themselves all fall!
While thou, pure swanlike victim, Love, dost rave
And make Death sing! Full of that question dread
Was Hamlet; yet the black sheep doth the rest
O' the flock not taint; they might elsewhere be bred.
E'en the gravediggers, 'i the thick o' 't, jest!
The players laugh and rant, and earn their bread;
His soul like Lethe clogs, on its dark quest!
| Stones from The Quarry | |