BALLADE OF THE ABSENT GUEST

Friends whom to-night once more I greet,

Most glad am I with you to be,

And, as I look around, I meet

Many a face right good to see;

But one I miss — ah! where is he?—

Of merry eye and sparkling jest,

Who used to brim my glass for me;

I drink — in what?— the Absent Guest.

Low lies he in his winding-sheet,

By organized hypocrisy

Hurled from his happy wine-clad seat,

Stilled his kind heart and hushed his glee;

His very name dare n't mention we,

That good old friend who brought such zest,

And set our tongues and spirits free:

I drink — in what?— the Absent Guest.

No choice to-night‘ twixt “dry” or “sweet,”

‘ Twixt red or white,‘ twixt Rye,— ah! me —

Or Scotch — and think! we live to see't —

No whispered word, nor massive fee,

Nor even influenza plea,

Can raise a bubble; but, as best

We may, we make our hollow spree:

I drink — in what?— the Absent Guest.

Friends, good is coffee, good is tea,

And water has a charm unguessed —

And yet — that brave old deity!

I drink — in tears — the Absent Guest.