And mother each passed to death,
And now your sister. Clouds foregather,
And we stand underneath.
Friend, all the signs, as winter nears,
Do indicate our time
Approaching fast—not in arrears
Destiny in this clime.
A few things I would do before
I go—to put in order
Some trivial deeds, a meager store
On this side of the border.
That “unknown country,” be it none,
Now beckons; we make haste,
And what your younger sis has done
Is given a foretaste.