So This Was All

So this was all there was to the great play She came so far to act in, this was all-- Except the short last scene and the slow fall Of the final curtain, that might catch half-way, As final curtains do, and leave the grey Lorn end of things too long exposed. The hall Clapped faintly, and she took her curtain call, Knowing how little she had left to say. And in the pause before the last act started, Slowly unpinning the roses she had worn, She reconsidered lines that had been said, And found them hardly worthy the high-hearted Ardor that she had brought, nor the bright, torn, Roses that shattered round her, dripping red.