TO-MORROW I shall be at Elsinore. When by the Thames there was no song to sing They say that he some time the buskin wore In Denmark, and was Player to the King. Of men the living habitation still, They very stones and turrets I shall see That he remembered once, and set the quill, And the words came -- 'Who's there?' -- 'Nay, answer me.' So Avon plied in royal usury, Borrowed a scene and gave a world again, Adding a tragic immortality To the imperial story of the Dane, That in all kingdoms now, for ever more, Hourly the play begins at Elsinore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET IT BE YOU by SARA TEASDALE DEATH (1) by MAXWELL BODENHEIM PEACE; A STUDY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY A GAGE D'AMOUR by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE WILLIAM P. FRYE [FEBRUARY 28, 1915] by JEANNE ROBERT FOSTER SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY |