Taranto now has lost her guide,
A prelate without prelate’s pride.
On that Parthenopean coast
Incredulous of fog or frost,
His Persian puss ne smiles to see
Leap boldly on a stranger’s knee,
And stretch out flat and lick his fur,
And switch his tail, and gape and purr.
O my two friends! may, many a day,
Both think of me when far away!