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(Mrs. Jefferson Davis, widow of the President of the Southern Confederacy died October 16, 1906.)


Oh weep fair South, and bow thy head
For one is gone beyond recall!
Cast flowers on the sainted dead...

Wake for the sun, that scatters into flight,
The poker players who have stayed all night;
Drives husbands home with reeling steps, and then--
Gives to the sleepy "cops" an awful fright.
...

Far back within an age remote,
Which common history fails to note,
When dogs could talk, and pigs could sing,
And frogs obeyed a wooden king,
There lived a tribe of rats so mean,...