Classic Poem

Friends are but bubbles in a bowl,
Mere empty things, devoid of soul,
Reflecting but what shines upon;
A puff of wind and — pish! They're gone.

Now see! So carefully I've wrought
To raise and fashion one from naught.
A passing gust! A zephyr veers!
My bubble bursts and disappears.

I sit and gaze at one I've made
Reflecting gems of light and shade,
When, lo, it bursts! The friendship flies
And leaves but soap dust in my eyes.

So thick they cluster, bright they shine,
So delicate, clear-hued, and fine,
So fair, so fine — to look upon,
But brush so lightly — puff! They're gone!