THE OLD CHORUS MAN
Reading edition
He's played with Booth, He's shared applause with Jefferson, He's run the gamut of the soul Imparting substance to the shadow men Masters have fashioned with their quills And set upon the boards. Great men-of-iron were his favored rôles, (Once he essayed Napoleon). And now, unknowing, he plays his greatest tragedy: Dressed in a garb to look like service clothes, Cheeks lit by fire—of make-up box, He marches with a squad of sallow youths And bare-kneed girls, Keeping step to tattoo of the drums Beat by some shapely maids in tights, While close by in the silent streets There march long files of purposed men Who go to death, perhaps, For the same cause he travesties Within the playhouse walls.