Classic Poem

I AM a Player. On the stage? Not so;
But on the life-stage where I come and go,
Rehearse, play ill or well, then doff my mask
To rest, and then resume my curious task
Of being many, though I am but one.

I wonder if, when all the parts are done,
The lights go off, the house is emptied quite,
And I must step into the outer night,
The stars will calm me, and a cooling breath
Comfort my body, ... on the way to death? ...
Meanwhile, the prompter's bell! His task to each.
May God himself approve my curtain speech!