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Farewell address spoken by Mr. Kemble Written by Walter Scott Esqr.
As the worn war-horse, at the trumpet's sound Erects his mane, and neighs, and paws the ground Disdains the ease his generous lord assigns And longs to rush on the embattled lines, To I, your plaudits ringing on mine ear Can scarce sustain to think our parting near; To think my scenic hour for ever past And that those valued plaudits are my last-- But years steal on, and higher duties crave To the space between the theatre and grave That, like the Roman in the Capitol I may adjust my mantle ere I fall: My life's brief act in the public service flown The last, the closing scene, must be my own Here then adieu! while yet some well-graced parts May fix an ancient favourite in your hearts Not quite to be forgotten, even when You look on better actors, younger men; and [written in right corner at bottom of page]