♫
”Stood I where you, now starry and new,
Brylcreemed and cherished, view those who have perished;
The collegiate adorned, on Founder’s Day mourned,
Old souls with young dreams, bright plans and mad schemes;
Three from the left, that’s me with the clef,
A musician’s award, bestowed by the Board;
Prized above all, before the Great War,
Took hearing and sight, an aesthete’s blight;
For a whisper apart, is the end from the start,
What remains of the day, nowt but shadows that play;
On this side of the glass, through which you will pass,
At the lone piper’s call, when dusk it doth fall.”
“A cabinet of clowns dressed up in their gowns.”
Inspired by the gallery scene from Dead Poets Society - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vi0Lbjs5ECI
♫
‘O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won.’
- Walt Whitman
