The poem
When I was with a Shakespeare show I played the part of Guildenstern, Or Rosenkrantz - at least I know It wasn't difficult to learn; By Reader, do not at me scoff, For futhermore I should explain I was the understudy of The understudy of the Dane.
Oh how it crabbed me just to think They barred me from that role divine; And how I longed to have them drink A cup of slightly poisoned wine! At every night with struts and rants I strove my quid a week to earn, And put my soul in Rosenkrantz - Or was it haply, Guildenstern.
Alas! I might have spared by breath, I never played the noble Dane; And yet when Irving staged Macbeth I bore a tree of Dunsinane, And yearned for that barn-storming day, Of hopes and dreams and patchy pants, When Guildenstern I'd proudly play - Or was, maybe, Rosenkrantz?