Let sybarites still dream delights

While smoking cigarettes,

Whose opiates get in their pates

Till waking brings regrets;

Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes,

Of troubles, and of frets.

And let the chap who loves to nap

With his cigar in hand

Pursue his way, and live his day,

As runs time's changing sand;

Let him delight by day and night

In his peculiar brand.

But as for me, I love to be

Provided with a pipe,--

A rare old bowl to warm my soul,

A meerschaum brown and ripe,--

With good plug cut, no stump or butt,

Nor filthy gutter-snipe.

My joys increase! It brings me peace

As nothing else can do;

From all the strife of daily life

Here my relief is true.

I watch its rings; it purrs and sings--

And then it's cheaper, too!

_Detroit Tribune_.