I've been in love some scores of times,

With Amy, Nellie, Katie, Mary--

To name them all would stretch my rhymes

From here as far as Demerary.

But each has wed some other man,--

Girls always do, I find, in real life,--

And I am left alone to scan

The horizon of my own ideal life.

I still survive. I was, I think,

Not born to r
n in double harness;

I did not shirk my food and drink

When Nellie married Harry Carnice.

But I am wedded to my pipe!

That faithful friend, nought can provoke it;

Should it grow cold, I gently wipe

Its mouth, then fill it, light, and smoke it.

But it is sweet to kiss; and I

Should love to kiss a wife and pet her--

She scolds? Straight to my pipe I fly;

Her scowls through fragrant smoke look better.

There's merry Maud--with her I'd dare

To brave the matrimonial ocean;

_She_ would not pout or fret, but wear

A constant smile of sweet devotion.

How know I that she will not change,

My wishes at defiance set? Oh!

(Pray this in smallest type arrange)

She smokes--at times--a cigareto.