we sat on the balcony, and the fan-palms arched above;
The witching strain of a waltz by Strauss came up to our cool retreat,
And I prisoned her little hand in mine, and I whispered my plea of
love.

Then sudden the laughter died on her lips, and lowly she bent her head;
And oh, there came in the deep, dark eyes a look that was heaven
to see
And the moments went, and I waited there, and never a word was said,
And she plucked from her bosom a rose of red, and shyly gave it to
me.

Then the music swelled to a crash of joy, and the lights blazed up
like day;
And I held her fast to my throbbing heart, and I kissed her bonny
brow;
"She is mine, she is mine for evermore!" the violins seemed to say,
And the bells were ringing the New Year in--O God! I can hear them
now.

Don't you remember that long, last waltz, with its sobbing, sad
refrain?
Don't you remember that last goodbye, and the dear eyes dim with
tears?
Don't you remember that golden dream, with never a hint of pain,
Of lives that would blend like an angel-song in the bliss of the
coming year?

Oh, what have I lost! What have I lost! Ethel, forgive, forgive!
The red, red rose is faded now, and it's fifty years ago.
'Twere better to die a thousand deaths than live each day as I live!
I have sinned, I have sunk to the lowest depths--but oh, I have
suffered so!

Hark! Oh hark! I can hear the bells!... Look! I can see her there,
Fair as a dream ... but it fades ... And now--I can hear the
dreadful hum
Of the crowded court ... See! the Judge looks down ... NOT GUILTY,
my Lord, I swear ...
The bells, I can hear the bells again ... Ethel, I come, I come!...

* * * * *

"Rouse up, old man, it's twelve o'clock. You can't sleep here, you
know.
Say! ain't you got no sentiment? Lift up your muddled head;
Have a drink to the glad New Year, a drop before you go--
You darned old dirty hobo ... My God! Here, boys! He's DEAD!"

COMFORT

Say! You've struck a heap of trouble--
Bust in business, lost your wife;
No one cares a cent about you,
You don't care a cent for life;
Hard luck has of hope bereft you,
Health is failing, wish you'd die--