Share:
  Guess poet | Poets | Poets timeline | Isles | Contacts

Robert W Service - The ActorRobert W Service - The Actor
Work rating: Low


Enthusiastic was the crowd     That hailed him with delight; The wine was bright, the laughter loud     And glorious the night. But when at dawn he drove away     With echo of their cheer, To where his little daughter lay,     Then he knew— Fear. How strangely still the house! He crept     On tip-toe to the bed; And there she lay as if she slept     With candles at her head. Her mother died to give her birth,     An angel child was she; To him the dearest one on earth . . .     How could it be? `O God! If she could only live,`     He thought with bitter pain, `How gladly, gladly would I give     My glory and my gain. I have created many a part,     And many a triumph known; Yet here is one with breaking heart     I play alone.` Beside the hush of her his breath     Came with a sobbing sigh. He babbled: `Sweet, you play at death . . .     `Tis I who die.`
Source

The script ran 0.001 seconds.