Though I recited Crispin Crispian
With bold and fervent words, as Henry ought,
There dwelt within that verse, Shakespearean
And underthought, a subtler strain. If thought
Strides into words, and words thus into grief,
What grief was then allowed when Henry spake?
I hear a voice that, unafraid and brief,
Admits a doleful prophecy: a wake
For one not dead, but dying still; and soft
Assents to death. And so should I, if he,
When oratory fades, held then aloft
A cheerless recitation of the free
And freshly dead, thus whisp’ring to the breach –
Aye, whisp’ring, should I speak that plaintive speech.
2 comments:
My initial response, lost in the dreamy drama of the moment depicted herein, wonder why it concludes with a period and not the question mark the seeming query might need? I love the discussion, and imagery expressing the haunting moment of internal reconsideration. It is thought-provoking and beautiful, almost eerie. I especially love the flow which enjambment makes fluid in L's 7-10. Fascinating and lovely!
The last sentence is meant as a hypothetic - should I do this, aye, I would be whispering.
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