The Rest Is Silence

(Horatio speaks.)

BEYOND these ancient walls of Elsinore
A shrouding mist is folded on the snow.
(Here by the battlements he leans no more, Watching the guard below.)
League after league along the cliff the gray
Wide water darkens with the darkening west.
(O troubled soul, by what uncharted way Hast thou gone forth to rest?)
Within, the shadows creep across the walls,
Through the long corridors as dusk grows dim.
(The echoing vastness of the vaulted halls To-night is full of him.)
A gust of wind steals shuddering down the floor
Where once he paced his hours of heart-wrung watch.
(It may be that his foot is at the door, His hand upon the latch.)
‘The rest is silence.’ — Ah, my liege, my prince!
Though storm-winds sweep the seas, and cannon roar,
Silence is on thy lips, and ever since Silence in Elsinore!