Booth turned to you, marking your face
From all the rest, and said “There is a man
Who might play Hamlet—better still Othello”;
And why it was the women loved you; and the priest
Could feed his body and soul together drinking
A glass of beer and visiting with you......
Then something happened:
Your face grew smaller, your brow more narrow,
Dull fires burned in your eyes,
Your body shriveled, you walked with a cynical shuffle,