Now welcome back, and health! he said;
After so many years apart
I thought that half of us were dead
And half in wheel chairs or deranged.
Sit down! We’ve all got lots to tell;
It warms the cockles of my heart
To see how little you have changed. . . .
The clock ticked on. Farewell, farewell.
Here’s whiskey, John; here’s brandy, Ned;
What’s yours, old man ? I ’m glad to see
There’s not one gray hair on your head.
Why, hang it! You look twenty-five.
The world’s your oyster; I’m the shell,
But at this moment I should be
Thankful I’m even still alive.
Farewell. The clock ticked on. Farewell.
There’s Bill and Toby over there
Just as they used to be, he said;
They’ll wrangle all the night, that pair,
After so many years apart.
Fill up — lots more when this is gone;
Don’t sit there staring like the dead.
Good God! Something is at my heart. . . .
Farewell, farewell. The clock ticked on.
ROBERT HILLYER