Pipe Dreams, and Others

He who would take my pipe away,

Would bring a cloud upon my day;

The smoke that curls about the room

Like summer skies, dispels my gloom,

The glowing bowl is like the sun,

That warms my heart through moments dun.

He who would steal my mild cigar

Would tear the luster from my star;

Would dash the flavor from my lips

Like nectar which the wild bee sips.

The visions of this fragrant weed

Bring me perfect peace indeed.

He who would steal my cigarette

Fills me with longing and regret.

Would rob me of the rich perfume

That comes from fields of clover bloom.

These graces, three-in-one, I ween,

Compose fair lady nicotine.

May 5, 1910