They posted off and on, four miles away.
The eagle hastens at the eaglet’s cry.
And when arrived they found the family
In the large kitchen, but in ne’er a grief.
It pains a man at times to miss his pain.
There Uncle Sol was buried—to the eyes,
In a great water-melon, lush and red.
Life’s sweetest things are water after all:
Which rises in a mist, and comes again
As rainy tears. And William almost wept