Like to a spark on a frosty nite
How many souls took their flight
Within the year agone–
How many tho’ they shed a tear
Cannot put a tiny flower
Upon the mound of one they love – –
The Sullivans took their flight
Nor left a single trace behind.
The great Titanic took its toll
Of pleasure-seekers, in its wake.
And loved ones could see them no more.
“Good-bye,” he said most meaningful,
“Goodbye Ma,” and held my hand;
‘Twas his last time at Ah-Gwah-Ching.
For, like a spark on a frosty night
His soul soon after took its flight,
And ne’er again will I see
The one who lived so long with me.
(Fifty-three years)