* * * *
Yet, Goanveer, I bid thee now good-bye,
And leave thee, feeling yet a love for thee,
As one who first my racing instinct stirred,
As one who taught me to abjure the turf.
Hereafter we may meet—I cannot tell;
Thy future may be happy—so I wish.
But this I pray, on no account henceforth
Make mixture of your water—drink it neat;
I charge thee this. And now I must go hence;