Tomorrow and Tomorrow

How bold a thing man is to take Fate's pen from her hand

and demand to do her weaving.

How hungry he gnaws at her coloured thread

tying anxious knots in haphazard patterns

What a thing this Delphic frenzy

and still he claims his unfettered freedom

So write the battle hymns and sing the ballads loud

(the dirges will come, will come, will come she cries)

Spite the night and mock the day

What can stand against man with sword in hand?

Here him lift the anthem cry I think therefore I am

and look and hear what is man

this standing thinking thing.

So wind the horn tell the long tale

Build the lonely road and choose the only love

Rage until you fill the empty echoes

and build your homes into the wilderness.

So spite the night and mock the day

Cry down witch drown

For I am Macbeth and unafraid!

(It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.)