DANIEL WEBSTER.
A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire,
I ne'er knew the Benedict's yoke;
I worship a fairy-like, fanciful form,
That goes up the chimney in smoke.
I sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease,
Without wife or bairns to provoke,
And puff at my pipe, while my hopes and my fears
All go up the chimney in smoke.
I sit with my pipe, and my heart's lonesome care
I try, but all vainly, to choke.
Ah, me! but I find that the flame that Love lights
Won't go up the chimney in smoke.
_Cigar and Tobacco World_, London.
THE DREAMER'S PIPE.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip,
Clutched between the dreamer's lip,
Fragrant odors from thy bowl
Mingling with the dreamer's soul;
Curling wreaths of smoke ascending,
Comfort sweet with incense blending.
Joy and peace and solace sending
To the dreamer's heart.
Fashioned like a satyr's head,
Crowned with fire, glowing red,
Quaintly carved and softly sleek
As Afric maiden's downy cheek.
Comrade of each idle hour
In forest shade or leafy bower;
Lotus-eaters from thy power
Ne'er can break apart.
Darkly colored from long use
With tobacco's balmy juice
From snowy white to ebon turned
By the incense daily burned.
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