Oh, 'tis well and enough,

A whiff or a puff

From the heart of a pipe to get;

And a dainty maid

Or a budding blade

May toy with the cigarette;

But a man, when the time

Of a glorious prime

Dawns forth like a morning star,

Wants the dark-brown bloom

And the sweet perfume

That go with a good cigar.

To lazily

In a painted boat

On a shimmering morning sea,

Or to flirt with a maid

In the afternoon shade

Seems good enough sport to be;

But the evening hour,

With its subtle power,

Is sweeter and better far,

If joined to the joy,

Devoid of alloy,

That lurks in a good cigar.

When a blanket wet

Is solidly set

O'er hopes prematurely grown;

When ambition is tame,

And energy lame,

And the bloom from the fruit is blown;

When to dance and to dine

With women and wine

Past poverty pleasures are,--

A man's not bereft

Of all peace, if there's left

The joy of a good cigar.


A glass is good, and a lass is good,

And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;

The world is good, and the people are good,

And we're all good fellows together.

JOHN O'KEEFE: _Sprigs of Laurel_, Act ii. sc. i.