The Face on the Barroom Floor

Here is the other poem that Gordon's mother Beanie used to recite to us, her grandchildren. While I (Bob) do not remember the words, I do remember the "horror story" quality of the telling. I've omitted some of the stanzas here. A google search will find you the whole poem, or email me, and I'll send it to you.

The Face on the Barroom Floor

'TWAS a balmy summer evening, and a goodly crowd was there,

Which well-nigh filled Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square;

And as songs and witty stories came through the open door,

A vagabond crept slowly in and posed upon the floor. [....]


This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical good grace;

In face, he smiled as tho' he thought he'd struck the proper place.

"Come, boys, I know there's kindly hearts among so good a crowd --

To be in such good company would make a deacon proud. [...]


"I'll tell you a funny story, and a fact, I promise, too.

Say! Give me another whiskey, and I'll tell what I'll do --

That I was ever a decent man not one of you would think;

But I was, some four or five years back. Say, give me another drink. [....]


"I was a painter -- not one that daubed on bricks and wood,

But an artist, and for my age, was rated pretty good.

I worked hard at my canvas, and was bidding fair to rise,

For gradually I saw the star of fame before my eyes.

"I made a picture perhaps you've seen, 'tis called the `Chase of Fame.'

It brought me fifteen hundred pounds and added to my name,

And then I met a woman -- now comes the funny part --

With eyes that petrified my brain, and sunk into my heart. [....]


"Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom your soul you'd give,

With a form like the Milo Venus, too beautiful to live;

With eyes that would beat the Koh-i-noor, and a wealth of chestnut hair?

If so, 'twas she, for there never was another half so fair.

"I was working on a portrait, one afternoon in May,

Of a fair-haired boy, a friend of mine, who lived across the way.

And Madeline admired it, and much to my surprise,

Said she'd like to know the man that had such dreamy eyes.

"It didn't take long to know him, and before the month had flown

My friend had stole my darling, and I was left alone;

And ere a year of misery had passed above my head,

The jewel I had treasured so had tarnished and was dead.

"That's why I took to drink, boys. Why, I never see you smile,

I thought you'd be amused, and laughing all the while.

Why, what's the matter, friend? There's a tear-drop in you eye,

Come, laugh like me. 'Tis only babes and women that should cry.

"Say, boys, if you give me just another whiskey I'll be glad,

And I'll draw right here a picture of the face that drove me mad.

Give me that piece of chalk with which you mark the baseball score --

You shall see the lovely Madeline upon the barroon floor."

Another drink, and with chalk in hand, the vagabond began

To sketch a face that well might buy the soul of any man.

Then, as he placed another lock upon the shapely head,

With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell across the picture -- dead.

Hugh Antoine D'Arcy