As the people who know me well know, one of my favourite poets, possibly my favourie poet of all time, is Alice Oswald. In her anthology, Of Weeds and Wildflowers, are etchings and sketches of various plants, stems, petals, roots; some wild, some on display. On one of these pages there is included some lines from Hamlet, Act I, Scene III, taken from a conversation between Laertes and Ophelia. I printed the etching onto fabric. It's not so clear to read from the pictures below, but here are the lines:
LAERTES
For Hamlet and the trifling of his favor,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute.
No more.
OPHELIA
No more but so?
LAERTES
Think it no more.
