The poem
When I'm among a blaze of lights, With tawdry music and cigars And women dawdling through delights, And officers in cocktail bars, Sometimes I think of garden nights And elm trees nodding at the stars.
I dream of a small firelit room With yellow candles burning straight, And glowing pictures in the gloom, And kindly books that hold me late. Of things like these I choose to think When I can never be alone: Then someone says 'Another drink?' And turns my living heart to stone.