The cook has left; the baby’s got a tooth;
John has gone fishing to renew his youth.
House-cleaning’s due—or else we’ll have to move!
How sweet you are in that! Good-bye, my love!”
Death comes. Death—
Love cries to love, and no man answereth.
Death the beginning, Death the endless end,
Life’s proof and first condition, Birth’s best friend.
“Yes, it’s a dreadful loss! No coming back!
Never again! How do I look in black?