Alas, poor Hamlet!
We loved thee well.
Where once you swam
In a happy daze
Another now takes
Pride of place.
In joy you lived with us
And joy you gave us.
Thine ills we bettered
Afore thy sudden fall.
Thou were the beginning for us
As Tir's Day rode high.
I put thee in the arms of the Poet
Who greeted thee with happy sighs.
Thou lived well
And we loved well,
But it was not to last.
That morn of Thor's Day
Did we to bed,
And thou
Were swimming giddy circles instead.
We bore thee up
As whatever malaise that struck thee
Suddenly took thee.
As close to being
In our arms as thou could safely be
Thou did forsake the world of breath
For whatever lies beyond the veil of death.
As for your brother and sister before,
We for you shall make flames roar.
The rest is silence.