A POET'S PIPE.
Reading edition
From the French of Charles Baudelaire.
A poet's pipe am I, And my Abyssinian tint Is an unmistakable hint That he lays me not often by. When his soul is with grief o'erworn I smoke like the cottage where They are cooking the evening fare For the laborer's return. I enfold and cradle his soul In the vapors moving and blue That mount from my fiery mouth; And there is power in my bowl To charm his spirit and soothe, And heal his weariness too.
RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD.