Ollie

Friends, Venezuelans, countrymen, lend me your beards;

I come to agree with Ollie, not to smile at him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their veins;

So let it be with Ollie. The sleek Kami

Hath told you Ollie was sweet:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Ollie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kami and the rest–

For Kami is an irate woman;

So are they all, all irate women–

Come I to speak in Ollie’s funeral.

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