Young Man: Mr. Chair man! I call to mind
Someone whom we all know well,
A man whose jokes and funny stories,
Witty retorts and observations,
So biting in their mock pomposity,
Have enlivened our table talk
And driven away the gloom that now
The plague, our guest, is shedding
Over the most brilliant minds.
Two days ago our laughter crowned His stories; it isn’t possible
That in our merry feasting we should
Forget Jackson. Here’s his chair,
Sitting empty, as if waiting for
A good companion—but he’s gone away
To a cold lodging underground . . .