A Boquet for Our Maggie
A Boquet for Our Maggie.
Drop the curtain, and put out the lights;
And alone, in the dark of darkest nights,
Let the theatre dream of the glory shed
From the star-bright brow of the charmer fled.
And all the passions fine and strong
Told in story, or sung in song,
In eye-flash felt, or tear-drop seen,
Have vanished with the vanished Queen.
Queen never passed from palace-door
With retinue half so grand before,
As the love and prayers that brighten the way
Of one who made night more lovely than day.
Actors! what have you now to show?
Your guests have much to remember you know,
And eyes that seem to look at your play,
May see but the glory that’s faded away.
Alone by itself, the fond heart keeps
Its tryst with memory, in secret deeps;
And only one can restore the grace
And beauty that lately illumined the place.
Drop the curtain and put out the lights;
The soul has a theatre with charmed rights;
And the dream elves may lead us wherever they will,
But the beautiful Fanchon is played there still.