The play is done; the curtain drops, Slow falling to the prompters bell A moment yet the actor stops And looks around to say farewell. It is an irksome word and task: And when hes laughed and said his say He shows, as he removes the mask, A face thats anything but gay.
Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin That never has known the barbers shear, All your wish is woman to win, This is the way that boys begin. Wait till you come to Forty Year.