My story would never be brought to an end.
So it only remains, with a few parting words,
To take leave of this marvellous Meeting of Birds;
Who, from flying or walking, now sat down at table
To a Pic-nic provided as each one was able.
As the Guests were domestic—erratic—aquatic,
The dishes were various, the feeders ecstatic,
And the salt, too, that season’d the supper was Attic.
The fish were delightfully drest by the Cook,
Whom for this very purpose, without line or hook,