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 LINES 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 DEXTER SMITH 
 
 AND READ BY 
 
 Miss MARGARET ANGLIN 
 
 Of Charles Frohman's Empire Theatre Company, of Neiv 
 
 York, on the Occasion of the Last Performance ever 
 
 given in the Boston Museum, on Monday, June 
 
 i, 1903, Prior to the Demolition 
 
 of the Building. ♦ 
 
 Ring down the final curtain ! Stay ! A word ; 
 First let our humble epilogue be heard ! 
 
 What echoes from these walls reverberate! 
 
 What spirits at our summons congregate ! 
 
 As standing here, within the Century's door, 
 
 We see processions of the years before, — 
 
 The heroes, heroines, of mimic life 
 
 Go marching on in scenes of peace or strife : 
 
 The kings and queens, that once their sceptres bore, 
 
 Reigned for a season and are here no more. 
 
 They came, they went, yet on the passing age 
 
 They pressed the seal of an uplifting stage ! 
 
 When Moses Kimball firm foundation laid, 
 
 What giant undertaking he essayed ! 
 
 With Sedley Smith, and, later, E. F. Keach, 
 
 He was enabled grand results to reach ; 
 
 From his rare plant there came a goodly yield 
 
 When nurtured into bloom by R. M. Field, 
 
 Until the Boston Museum became 
 
 A garden of delights, of deathless fame. 
 
 To foster Art their fruitful lives were spent ; 
 
 Could Man desire more noble monument ? 
 
 On these grand boards, Shakespeare's immortal words 
 
 Have played on human hearts as living chords ; 
 
 Have roused ambition, have soothed sorrow's pain, 
 
 Raised stricken souls to heights of joy again. 
 
 This is the mission of the Drama, writ 
 
 In lines of flame — to make life strong and fit 
 
 To bear the burdens and to ease the care 
 
 That all humanity must ever share. 
 
 Though many stars have scintillated here 
 And myriad players shone from year to year, 
 The grand stock company, our very own, 
 Here claims precedence, if not praise alone. 
 
 Kate Reignolds, who with polished art enthrals, 
 Whose Lady Teazle lives in memory's halls ; 
 W hose Bonnie Fishwife, with its quaint old lay 
 Of " Caller Herrin" charms our hearts to-day; 
 
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What sweeter portrait than her Juliet ? 
 . And who. her Colleen Baivn can e'er forget ? 
 'Her gracfoks "kindness to the struggling class 
 
 Ne'er from their grateful memories will pass. 
 :On "hearts sublime she met the Drama's stress; 
 -'Always -the* 'Artist .— not the Woman less! 
 
 To Annie Clarke, of sweetest memory, 
 
 We bring the flowers of love and loyalty. 
 
 'T is well the fair forget-me-not we weave 
 
 Within the wreath which o'er her name we leave. 
 
 We hear the echoes of her Lady Gay ; 
 
 In arch Peg Woffington her art had play ; 
 
 The noble-hearted, to ideals true, 
 
 She left a benefaction ever new : 
 
 It is, that aspiration, study, toil, 
 
 Make an endowment nothing can despoil ! 
 
 Dear Mistress Vincent, loved of Boston's heart, 
 Brought out the woman's side in every part ; 
 Her Mrs. Malaprop we still recall, 
 And her quaint Hannah Partridge first of all. 
 Her heart was open as her aim was true, 
 With honest purpose steadfastly in view ; 
 With human interests her duty lay ; 
 To her this life was as a perfect play, 
 With Love-constructed plot, with every line 
 To lead to Charity, as to a shrine. 
 
 Of William Warren, who shall fitly speak? 
 
 In vain for proper eulogy we seek ; 
 
 He stood conspicuous for all that Art 
 
 With highest standards sets its works apart. 
 
 Through him, Sir Peter Teazle lived anew, 
 
 And his Sir Harcourt to a classic grew ; 
 
 Where can his Jesse Rural be surpassed ? 
 
 Where his delightful Batkins now be cast? 
 
 His fame was national, though Boston claimed 
 
 Him citizen, in local spirit framed, 
 
 He graced this stage for two score years and more, 
 
 An artist, — gentleman, straight to the core. 
 
 For triumphs of perfection e'er he strove 
 
 And won the people's plaudits and their love 
 
 To our Charles Barron let us tribute pay — 
 
 The gifted all-round actor of our day. 
 
 How well remembered here for his Renaud ; 
 
 His Sir Giles has the true artistic glow ; 
 
 He plays /ago with consummate art; 
 
 He ever sinks himself within his part. 
 
 His native city follows his career 
 
 With pride, and ever bids him welcome here. 
 
 George Wilson, master of Protean powers, 
 
 Has here enlivened many sombre hours ; 
 
 Not only with the jester's cap and bell 
 
 Has he won fame, for pathos fits him well. 
 
 With true vis comica and subtle skill 
 
 He moves his ductile audience at will. 
 
 His range of characters, so varied, wide, 
 
 Embraces every phase of Art, and side. 
 
 What more piquant and crisp than his command 
 
 Of that now famous phrase — " Guv'nor, yer 'and." 
 
There lives to-day, but not in Boston's zone, 
 An artist who once held the town her own, 
 With higher powers of a fertile mind 
 Her beauty, grace and sprightliness combined 
 To bring success. 'T is sixty years ago 
 Since first upon our stage she made her bow 
 In that first company to gather here. 
 Now, Mistress G. C. Howard, she was dear 
 To patrons of this house in earliest days 
 Ere she, as Topsy, won immortal bays. 
 May we to-night amid our smiles and tears 
 Wish her all happiness in her ripe years. 
 
 Good Mistress Jacob Barrow — who has seen 
 
 More finished grace than bore this matchless queen? 
 
 Here the career of Mary Shaw began ; 
 
 And Marie Wainwright shaped artistic plan ; 
 
 Adelaide Phillips, she of genius rare ; 
 
 To find her equal one would quite despair ; 
 
 Viola Allen here evolved a ray 
 
 Of that bright genius which is hers to-day ; 
 
 Here Mistress E. L. Davenport held sway 
 
 As did her gifted daughters, Blanche and May ; 
 
 Blithesome Kate Ryan, buoyant Amy Ames ; 
 
 Pert Ada Gilman recognition claims ; 
 
 Here Sadie Martinot, with matchless grace, 
 
 Brought Lady Angela to foremost place ; 
 
 Here Fannie Pitt most popular became ; 
 
 And Mary Cary played to great acclaim ; 
 
 Bonny Grace Atwell gave rich promise here ; 
 
 Louisa Meyers brought Polly Eccles* cheer. 
 
 What singing chambermaids ! Ah ! one forgets : — 
 In those good days they were not called soubrettes ! 
 Here Josie Orton reigned — Comedy's queen ; 
 And Miriam O'Leary's charming art was seen. 
 
 Every admirer of its history knows 
 
 How much this playhouse to Fred Williams owes ; 
 
 Here J. A. Smith was long of fops the king; 
 
 What bubbling humor oozed from J. H. Ring! 
 
 Grand old John Gilbert oft joined forces here 
 
 And lent his genius to the atmosphere. 
 
 On this stage Edwin Booth for the first time 
 
 Essayed the dazzling heights of Fame to climb ; 
 
 Here Lawrence Barrett was once leading man 
 
 Before his brilliant stellar course began ; 
 
 And Charles R. Thorne here sock and buskin wore ; 
 
 Here John B. Mason many honors bore; 
 
 While Mansfield here his earlier triumphs won ; 
 
 And Sothern in this stock put armor on. 
 
 Here Joseph Haworth made Patrie a hit ; 
 
 C. Leslie Allen was a favorite ; 
 
 Here Edgar Davenport sustained the fame 
 
 Which clings forever to the family name. 
 
 Here Shewell, Plympton, Arden, won renown ; 
 
 Le Moyne's Uriah Heep quite caught the town. 
 
 What summer seasons, not to memory lost, 
 
 When Willie Edouin led the merry host ; 
 
 When Crane's Le Blanc was brimming o'er with fun, 
 
 And N. C. Goodwin early favor won. 
 
McClannin, Hardenbergh, we still recall ; 
 And Sol Smith Russell, the beloved of all; 
 How fresh the memory of Murdoch yet. 
 And poor George Parks we never can forget ; 
 Here H. M. Pitt, grand Earl in " Fauntleroy," 
 Is well remembered; how we did enjoy 
 The unctiousness of J. H. Nolan's "bits"! 
 Seymour and Stevenson were favorites ; 
 George Riddle was a member of the corps ; 
 Here Carlos, Cotter, Burbeck, duties bore ; 
 And Hunter, Pitman, Schiller, favor gained 
 By efforts well and carefully sustained. 
 Hudson's Afzcawber, on artistic lines, 
 We recollect. Bright on the record shines 
 The work of Crisp, of Burrows, and of all 
 Who filled their places at the prompter's call. 
 
 Here, where his parents played for years before, 
 Appeared Fritz Williams in the '• Pinafore." 
 'T was as a "Juvenile" he then was seen, — 
 His promise then has been fulfilled, we ween. 
 
 Since Agamemnon wore his golden mask 
 And satyrs strove their features weird to hide, 
 Since Mimicry her varied arts applied; 
 And Roscius set the world the actor's task 
 Within the glorious light of Art to bask, 
 There came a yearning not to be denied 
 That Man might find Life's saner, sweeter side 
 And for a respite from his labors ask. 
 This human need the Drama well supplies 
 So that it be of Intellect the fruit ; 
 Its Love, its Sentiment, its Romance cries 
 To Man to make Life's jarring discords mute ; 
 And so refresh his soul, beneath the guise 
 Of mimic worlds, as with Apollo's lute ! 
 
 Boston Museum ! Name to conjure by ; 
 Is it a dream which brings an augury 
 That on some favored spot there is to rise 
 A splendid temple towering to the skies, — 
 The name, — traditions, — to perpetuate, — 
 Its classic fane to rehabilitate? 
 Its prestige following, as 'twould beseem, 
 Unto a grander, loftier academe? 
 Magnificent the vision — sweet the song 
 Sung by the siren Hope in accents strong; 
 Prophetic gleam of brilliancy to come 
 Where Thespis finds a new congenial home ; 
 Thalia her disciples shall unite ; 
 Melpomene and Momus lend their light, 
 And there the Drama's banner be unfurled 
 To float a hope and blessing to the world ! 
 
 The play is ended, and this playhouse, too, 
 Is now to pass forever from our view ; 
 This stage will darken as the curtain falls ; 
 Oblivion craves these memory-haunted walls ; 
 Farewell, old house, a tender, last farewell ! 
 To all thy echoings we sound the knell ; 
 We give the cue — one not heard here before, — 
 " The rest is silence ! " Now and evermore ! 
 
 ALFRED MUDGE & SON, PRINTERS, BOSTON 
 
Gaylamount 
 
 Pamphlet 
 
 Binder 
 
 Gaylord Bros., Inc. 
 
 Stockton, Calif. 
 T. M. Reg. U.S. Pat. Off. 
 
 V35374 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY