HIS ship of fancy flew the flag
⁠Of godly mirth and banter.
No sounder sail e'er breasted gale
⁠Than owned our Merry Chanter.

Its hold was stored with priceless freight—
⁠Pure humor, fun capricious;
Beneath the cheer there lurked no sneer,
⁠Cold, cynical, malicious.

It spurred the bitter tang of brine,
⁠It plumbed no no depths of trouble;
It rode the sea as light and free
⁠As it had been a bubble.

Its course was ever clear and true,
⁠Its steersman loved bold faring.
Where is one now to point a prow
⁠With such delightful daring?

Dear Captain of a craft we love,
⁠In life you led our laughter;
Now you have passed into the Vast,
⁠Our tears fain follow after.