About, as if caressing me;
And with a most entrancing pop,
The wine flows forth with gems atop,
Which, sparkling, burst in tiny spray
As if small sprites were there at play.
The dreary drip I cannot see—
I sip my “Clicquot” cozily,
And need no further joy than this,
Together with my meerchaum’s kiss.
The weather’s just as bright for me,