Close side by side, in the encircling dome,
While drifting clouds, their edges soft as foam,
Made couches, which the moon might rest upon.
In thro' the open window came the scent
Of lime trees, in the garden underneath,
And from my cigarette a little wreath
Of memories, to meet their fragrance went.
It was an evening full of bygone things,
That mingled with emotions newly born
As night will ever clasp and kiss the dawn,