Classic Poem

Close the door—across the river
He has gone!
With an abscess on his liver
He has gone!
Many years of rainy seasons,
And malaria's countless treasons,
Are among the many reasons
Why he's gone!

Bind the wasted jaw up lightly—
He has gone!
Close the sunken eyelids tightly—
He has gone!
Chinese gin from Bottle Alley
Could not give him strength to rally—
Lone to wander in Death Valley
He has gone!

In his best clothes we've arrayed him—
He has gone!
In a wooden box we've laid him—
He has gone!
Bogus Hennessey and sherry
With his system both made merry—
Very hard he fought them—very!
Yet he's gone!

Down the hill we tramp once more, friends,
He has gone!
Once again we've seen all o'er, friends,
He has gone!
Let us hope we may endure, or,
At least, our taste be surer—
Let us pray the liquor's purer
Where he's gone!