THE LAST CIGAR
'TIS a last choice Havana
I hold here alone;
All its fragrant companions
In perfume have flown.
No more of its kindred
To gladden the eye,
So my empty cigar case
I close with a sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine; but the stem
I'll bite off and light thee
To waft thee to them.
And gently I'll scatter
The ashes you shed,
As your soul joins its mates in
A cloud overhead.
All pleasure is fleeting,
It blooms to decay;
From the weeds' glowing circle
The ash drops away.
A last whiff is taken,
The butt-end is thrown,
And with empty cigar-case,
I sit all alone.
Anonymous.