Oh for a muse of fire that would ascend
the brightest heaven of invention
a kingdom for a stage, princes to act
and monarchs to behold the swelling scene.
Then should the warlike Harry like himself
assume the port of Mars and at his heels
something something famine sword and fire
crouch for employment
something something wooden O
My English teacher had a theory that if you recited poetry just before you dropped off to sleep you'd remember it forever. After half a century, I'm beginning to think he may have been right.