And my pipe! My sweet pipe, with thy cool amber tip!
No more shall that amber caress my fond lip.
Oh! friend of my youth! must thou really go—
My partner in joy, and my solace in woe?
’Tis too true; nought avail me these heart-broken sighs!
And, alas! thou art out. There are tears in my eyes,
As I lay thee down gently. I will not complain,
But I feel I shall never be happy again.
Fun, 1870.
——:o:——