Classic Poem

He does not play the role but is the king;
For nine swift scenes he towers. Applause is sweet.
The drama ends ... he bows ... the curtain falls.
The stage-door swings. He shambles down the street,
And halts before a shabby dwelling-place,
Then slowly climbs the creaking stairs. His room
Awaits him, actor-poor and candle-dim,
He falters ... as a king beholds his tomb!