MY FRIENDLY PIPE.

Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cigarettes, Whose opiates get in their pates Till waking brings regrets; Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes, Of troubles, and of frets. And let the chap who loves to nap With his cigar in hand Pursue his way, and live his day, As runs time's changing sand; Let him delight by day and night In his peculiar brand. But as for me, I love to be Provided with a pipe,— A rare old bowl to warm my soul, A meerschaum brown and ripe,— With good plug cut, no stump or butt, Nor filthy gutter-snipe. My joys increase! It brings me peace As nothing else can do; From all the strife of daily life Here my relief is true. I watch its rings; it purrs and sings— And then it's cheaper, too!