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,
y 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.
Laid at night within thy case
Of velvet soft--thy resting place--
Whence with leering, stained face
Daily thou must start,--
To soothe the dreamer's every care,
To glow and burn and fill the air
With thy curling perfume rare:
As thou charmest gloom away,
With the dreamer rest for aye
Friend of youth, and manhood ripe
All hail to thee, thou meerschaum pipe!
_New Orleans Times Democrat._