Tragicomedy

I SIT a mute spectator in the pit,
And watch the tragicomedy of Life:
The buffoon's laughter, and the flash of wit,
The love that leavens, and the assassin's knife.

And just because an act is yet to come
(The fifth, that evens all, and dries our tears),
My foolish thoughts are dark and troublesome.
And over-sad the tangled plot appears.

But if I still remain, as others do,
Trusting the playwright, sitting with my friends,
Will then the story turn out clear and true,
And shall I read its meaning as it ends?
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