By the foot-lights dimly burning.
All bare and exposed to the critics lash,
On that luckless stage we found him—
On that stage where he deemed he should cut such a dash,
With armour and mobs around him.
Few were the words which the manager said,
To soothe the tragedian's sorrow;
But they glared at each other with looks which made
Us hope they would fight on the morrow.
They doubtless thought, though their tongues they held,