To Charley Bayne
Liquor there is . . . but we knew happier
days!
When jug by jowl in many a tavern booth
We sat and glimpsed the world's ulterior truth,
And followed life through all its secret ways—
What light flashed up on us in golden rays
Out of the booze, to blend with fire of youth!
Crowned singers, we! although, forsooth,
The Dipsas Snake still rustled in our bays.
Hail, Rum! Sweet Demon of my wastrel years!
Farewell, old mellow Angel, ripe with Vice!
Dreamers and singers, cronies, let us drink
A stirrup-cup of laughter and of tears!
Omar and Falstaff, both are on the blink—
The Bitter People say they are not Nice!