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O, BROWNED in many a sunny clime,
And scathed in many a strange mishap,
Still soft ascends thy circling smoke
Before my after-dinner nap.
Each puff recalls a fleeting joy
That passed, like it, in smoke away,
And left, like thee, about my heart
But ashes of the blissful day.
Each spark recalls a glistening eye
That dimmed, like it, with Time's swift flight;
A falling star that sped, like thee,
Through dreary shadows of the night.
Thou little world of fire and smoke,
And ashes of the happy past;
Perish all other friends besides
Save thou, my dearest and my last!
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