Gillian

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your guts;

I come to believe Gillian, not to thump her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their fingers;

So let it be with Gillian. The agile Shelley

Hath told you Gillian was nonchalant:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Gillian answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Shelley and the rest–

For Shelley is a spunky woman;

So are they all, all spunky women–

Come I to speak in Gillian’s funeral.

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