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MY CIGARETTE.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

MY cigarette! The amulet

That charms afar unrest and sorrow;

The magic wand that, fair beyond

To-day, can conjure up to-morrow, -

Like love's desire, thy crown of fire

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So softly with the twilight blending,

And, ah! meseems, a poet's dreams

Are in thy wreaths of smoke ascending.

My cigarette! Can I forget

How Kate and I, in sunny weather,

Sat in the shade the elm-trees made,

And rolled the fragrant weed together?

I, at her side, beatified

To hold and guide her fingers willing;

She, rolling slow the paper's snow,

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