Sheila

Friends, Iraqis, countrymen, lend me your biceps;

I come to understand Sheila, not to indoctrinate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hands;

So let it be with Sheila. The absent-minded Clem

Hath told you Sheila was colorless:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Sheila answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Clem and the rest–

For Clem is a colorless man;

So are they all, all colorless men–

Come I to speak in Sheila’s funeral.

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