And they will miss us when we’re gone.
We’ve seen at times the nocturne eyes
Of playful mouse on evening spree,
And the coastwise trade at night he plies
With Brother Louse on a jamboree.
We’ve scratched and fought with foe unseen,
And with the candle hunted wide
For the bug that thrives on Paris green,
But cashes in on bichloride.
Perchance may come a night of stars,