Poor Yorrick letra

Ham.
Alas, poor Yorick!--I knew him,
Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he
hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred
in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those
lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes
now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that
were wont to set the table on a roar?

To what base uses we may return.

Alexander died,
Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is
earth;
Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!

Shakespeare In Hell - Letras

• A Dagger of the Mind
• A Pageant of Eight Kings
• A Politic Worm
• Enter the Ghost
• Epilogue - A Midsummer Nights's Dream
• Lady Macbeth
• Poor Yorrick
• Ripp'd from the Womb
• The Death of Ophelia
• The Poison'd Cup
• The Sleep of Death
• Three Witches
• Toil and Trouble