Garrett

Friends, Australians, countrymen, lend me your scalps;

I come to banish Garrett, not to fool him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their ankles;

So let it be with Garrett. The shiftless Clem

Hath told you Garrett was moronic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Garrett answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Clem and the rest–

For Clem is a slimy man;

So are they all, all slimy men–

Come I to speak in Garrett’s funeral.

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