Tobacco smoke drifts up to the dim ceiling br From half a dozen pipes and cigarettes, br Curling in endless shapes, in blue rings wheeling, br As formless as our talk. Phil, drawling, bets br Cornell will win the relay in a walk, br While Bob and Mac discuss the Giants' chances; br Deep in a morris-chair, Bill scowls at "Falk", br John gives large views about the last few dances. br br And so it goes -- an idle speech and aimless, br A few chance phrases; yet I see behind br The empty words the gleam of a beauty tameless, br Friendship and peace and fire to strike men blind, br Till the whole world seems small and bright to hold -- br Of all our youth this hour is pure gold.