Luther

Friends, Estonians, countrymen, lend me your hooves;

I come to fool Luther, not to praise him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their arteries;

So let it be with Luther. The high-strung Dave

Hath told you Luther was ladylike:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Luther answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Dave and the rest–

For Dave is a pigeon-toed man;

So are they all, all pigeon-toed men–

Come I to speak in Luther’s funeral.

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