Carrie

Friends, Paraguayans, countrymen, lend me your eyelashes;

I come to whisper to Carrie, not to peek at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their wrists;

So let it be with Carrie. The dowdy Elsa

Hath told you Carrie was puzzled:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Carrie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Elsa and the rest–

For Elsa is a nonchalant woman;

So are they all, all nonchalant women–

Come I to speak in Carrie’s funeral.

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