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 daren'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.

ENVOI

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.