Not a soul here but uttered farewell, and shot
Out of town, looking jaded and worried.
* * * * *
And lightly they'll talk of the "Master" that's gone,
And o'er his own "Hashes" abuse him;
But little he'll reck, if they'll let him sail on
In the yacht which was built to amuse him!
But half of our heavy trunks were down,
When the clock struck the hour for departing;
And we heard the distant discordant groan