Near a rusty-hilted sword,
Now upon my mantel-board,
Where my curios are stored,
You recline.
You were pleasant company when
By the scribbling of her pen
I was sent the ways of men
To repine.
Tell me truly (you were there
When she ceased that debonair
Correspondence and affair)
I suppose
That she laughed and smiled all day;
Or did gentle tear-drops stray
Down her charming _retroussee_
Little nose?
Where the sunbeams, coyly still,
Fall upon the mantel-sill,
You perpetually will
Silence woo;
And I fear that she herself,
By the little chubby elf.
Will be laid upon the shelf
Just as you.
DE WITT STERRY.
TITLEPAGE DEDICATION.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before,
And those who always smoked--now smoke the more."
ACROSTIC.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles,
O'er cankered care bring radiant smiles,
Best gift of Love to mortals given!
At once the bud and bliss of Heaven!
Crownless are kings uncrowned by thee;
Content the serf in thy sweet liberty,
O charm of life! O foe to misery!
J.H.
ANOTHER MATCH.
_AFTER A.
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