How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night;
I'm too sleepy to read and too lazy to write;
So I'll watch the blue rings, as they eddy and twirl,
And in gossamer wreathings coquettishly curl.
In the stillness of night and the sparseness of chimes
There's a fleetness in fancy, a frolic in rhymes;
There's a world of romance that persistently clings
To the azurine curving of Cigarette Rings!
What a picture comes back from the passed-away times!
They are lounging once more 'neath the sweet-scented limes;
See how closely he watches the Queen of Coquettes,
As her white hands roll deftly those small cigarettes!
He believes in her smiles and puts faith in her sighs
While he's dazzled by light from her fathomless eyes.
Ah, the dearest of voices delightfully sings
Through the wind intertwining of Cigarette Rings!
How sweet was her song in the bright summer-time,
When winds whispered low 'neath the tremulous lime!
How sweet, too, that bunch of forget-me-nots blue--
The love he thought lasting, the words he thought true!
_Ah, the words of a woman concerning such things_
_Are weak and unstable as Cigarette Rings!_
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