The Last Act

I’ve lived my life and filled my place,

     And now what more is there

For me to do but kiss the face

That bendeth low with loving grace,

     And rest from toil and care?

My part in life’s brief, mystic play

     Is drawing to a close;

The curtain falls mid roses gay,

The music swells, then dies away –

     I welcome my repose.

Aug. 2, ‘92

Pub. in Boston

Courier, March 4,

  1894