Then, from an arbor overgrown with flowers,
He placed a prattling child upon my knee,
And called him by my name. He laughed outright—
My daughter blushed. They now were man and wife.
I danced—then blubbered like a very child.
Tears are at times a truer sign of joy
Than smiles and laughter.
Stranger. ’Twas a boy, you said?
Sailor.A boy—his bud of Paradise, he called him.
Such flowers, too, often yield most bitter fruit