What tale is there, from this our time, that could
Compare with one of yours, O Bard of yore,
That, were it dramatized, as surely would
Arouse a captive audience to adore?
What Hamlet or Othello, Lear, Macbeth
Have we to mount our stage and captivate
Our ears with passionate and glorious breath
That we’ll hereafter praise and contemplate?
No longer now does poetry prevail
To lift our spirits to enraptured heights,
But rather now prosodic scripts assail
Our weary ears, revealing no insights
Compared to yours into the heart and soul
Of our humanity—true drama’s goal.