The Last Exit

Arthur Symons

28 February 1865 to 22 January 1945 (~80)

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Track 1

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Our love was all arrayed in pleasantness,

At little happy nothings, like a child,

Who like no tragic exit at the end?

A dainty little love in fancy dress.

Has come to be this grave and piteous thing.

Closing upon a kiss our comedy.

Or is it, then, a fault of taste in me,

Why did you leave me all this suffering

But now the love that once was half in play

A tender little love that sighed and smiled

For all your memory when you went away?

You might have played the play out, O my friend,

Stanza 1

But now the love that once was half in play

Has come to be this grave and piteous thing.

Why did you leave me all this suffering

For all your memory when you went away?

Stanza 2

Our love was all arrayed in pleasantness,

A tender little love that sighed and smiled

At little happy nothings, like a child,

A dainty little love in fancy dress.

Stanza 3

You might have played the play out, O my friend,

Closing upon a kiss our comedy.

Or is it, then, a fault of taste in me,

Who like no tragic exit at the end?

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The Last Exit

by Arthur Symons

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