Their happy faces haunt me yet.
So eager, anxious, and content,
To lose a light, ’twas only lent.
I felt their hearts were made of stone,
To be so glad when I was gone.
Our president, so mild and meek,
So happy was, he scarce could speak;
He said my welfare was his aim,
But now my farewell was the same!
So I hurriedly my parchment drew,