Mel

Friends, Moroccans, countrymen, lend me your antennae;

I come to snuggle with Mel, not to quarrel with him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hips;

So let it be with Mel. The comely Zed

Hath told you Mel was comely:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Mel answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Zed and the rest–

For Zed is a bold man;

So are they all, all bold men–

Come I to speak in Mel’s funeral.

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