"The Face upon the Barroom Floor", aka "The Face on the Floor" and "The Face on the Barroom Floor", is a poem originally written by the poet John Henry Titus in 1872. A later version was adapted from the Titus poem by Hugh Antoine d'Arcy in 1887 and first published in the New York Dispatch. History According to d'Arcy, the poem was inspired by an actual happening at Joe Smith's saloon at Fourth Avenue and 14th Street in Manhattan. When it was reprinted in a d'Arcy collection, he wrote a preface explaining the confusion of the two titles: Poem Written in ballad form, the poem tells of an artist ruined by love; having lost his beloved Madeline to another man, he has turned to drink. Entering a bar, the artist tells his story to the bartender and to the assembled crowd. He then offers to sketch Madeline's face on the floor of the bar but falls dead in the middle of his work. Here is the full text: 'Twas a balmy summer's 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. “Where did it come from?” someone said, “The wind has blown it in.” “What does it want?” another cried, “Some whiskey, rum or gin?” “Here Toby, sic him, if your stomach is equal to the work — I wouldn't touch him with a fork, he’s as filthy as a Turk.” This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical good grace; In fact, he smiled as though he thought he'd struck the proper place. “Come boys, I know there's kindly heart among so good a crowd — To be in such good company would make a deacon proud.” “Give me a drink — that’s what I want — I'm out of funds you know; When I had cash to treat the gang, this hand was never slow. What? You laugh as though you thought this pocket never held a sou: I once was fixed as well my boys, as anyone of you.” “There thanks, that’s braced me nicely; God Bless you one and all; Next time I pass this good saloon, I'll make another call. Give you a song? No, I can't do that, my singing days are past; My