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._