Two men came out of Shannon`s, having known The faces of each other for so long As they had listened there to an old song, Sung thinly in a wastrel monotone By some unhappy night-bird, who had flown Too many times and with a wing too strong To save himself; and so done heavy wrong To more frail elements than his alone. Slowly away they went, leaving behind More light than was before them. Neither met The other`s eyes again or said a word. Each to his loneliness or to his kind, Went his own way, and with his own regret, Not knowing what the other may have heard.SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
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