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

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,

Putting my heart in with the filling!

My cigarette! I see her yet, -

The white smoke from her red lips curling,

Her dreaming eyes, her soft replies,

Her gentle sighs, her laughter purling!

Ah, dainty roll, whose parting soul

Ebbs out in many a snowy billow,

I too would burn if I might earn

Upon her lips so sweet a pillow!

Ah, cigarette! The gay coquette

Has long forgot the flames she lighted,

And you and I unthinking by

Alike are thrown, alike are slighted.

The darkness gathers fast without,

A rain-drop on my window plashes;

My cigarette and heart are out,

And naught is left me but their ashes!

C. F. L.