The day of Parting came. The sun was high when Marco Rose. The cheery little table decked with snowy Cloth was laid. Out from their frugal hoard Came every dainty Uranne could find. Naught was too good for him. The dear, the Faithful! He who had done all in human power To make her life joyous. Truly, she said, as tears Lingered in her eyes, “My lines in pleasant places Have been cast.”

Well long they tarried o’er that Meal. It seemed as though ’twould never end, And yet they were not eating. At last the babe Stretched forth its chubby hands and with Infantile speech, broke up the silent meal.