Emily Majarian‘Ophelia’For Month of Love 2018 “Blue” There is a willow grows
Emily Majarian‘Ophelia’For Month of Love 2018 “Blue”There is a willow grows aslant a brook,That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.There with fantastic garlands did she comeOf crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,But our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them.There on the pendant boughs her coronet weedsClamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,When down her weedy trophies and herselfFell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wideAnd, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up;Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,As one incapable of her own distress,Or like a creature native and induedUnto that element; but long it could not beTill that her garments, heavy with their drink,Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious layTo muddy death.- Hamlet, Act IV Scene VII -- source link
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