A GOOD CIGAR.

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 float 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.