In recognition of Shakespeare’s death anniversary (April 23) and the supposed date of his christening (April 26).
Where there’s a Will, there’s a way
Wise women and men e’er do say,
Where there’s a will, there’s a way;
And thanks to Will, born on this day,
We’ve parts and lines to will our way
About this stage on which we play.
In “words, words, words” — a vast array! —
He names our world, both fair and fey,
And holds the mirror which will betray
Our dark December and mirthful May.
His Will is ours; we must obey.
Will’s words define the human fray;
E’en those who Will naysay
Will live his plays from day to day,
And follow the script, now grim, now gay,
That Will’s writ down for us to play.
This Will, these words, will ne’er decay;
Nor lead us, poor players, e’er astray;
Thus “it must follow, as the night the day,”
That he’s our Will, “come what may;”
We e’er Will love, “forever and a day.”
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