To be an actor’s no easy thing
Of speaking lines and grimacing,
But showing life of mind and heart
Of that whole self that is your part.
A brow slight-raised may say much more
Than feet a-stamp upon the floor,
And whispered word more force enforce
Than loudest shout on angry course.
A pause, before a rush of words,
Upstirs the mind like sudden birds
A-trembling ere they take to flight,
And he who masters, speaks with might.
To act a man you would not be,
And be that men, internally,
Takes love of craft that’s all your soul,
And stages him complete and whole.
Yet hero you look up to, high,
Demands of you heroic “I”—
The depth and height of all you are
Straining outward, touching star;
Demands all hours, nights and days,
Of searching through your hero’s ways,
Engrafting him in thought and bone,
Until you’re he, and stand alone.
Then act, my friend, and be you true
To that great love inside of you,
And proud be you of that proud thing
That makes the boards with ‘pplauses ring!