THOU who, when fears attack, Bid'st them avaunt, and Black Care, at the horseman's back Perching, unseatest; Sweet when the morn is gray; Sweet, when they've cleared away Lunch; and at close of day Possibly sweetest: I have a liking old For thee, though manifold Stories, I know, are told, Not to thy credit; How one (or two at most) Drops make a cat a ghost -- Useless, except to roast -- Doctors have said it: How they who use fusees All grow by slow degrees Brainless as chimpanzees, Meagre as lizards; Go mad, and beat their wives; Plunge (after shocking lives) Razors and carving-knives Into their gizzards. Confound such knavish tricks! Yet know I five or six Smokers who freely mix Still with their neighbors; Jones -- (who, I'm glad to say, Asked leave of Mrs. J.) -- Daily absorbs a clay After his labors. Cats may have had their goose Cooked by tobacco-juice; Still why deny its use Thoughtfully taken? We're not as tabbies are: Smith, take a fresh cigar! Jones, the tobacco-jar! Here's to thee, Bacon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK RIDERS: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR by RUDYARD KIPLING THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 72. THE CHOICE (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI JOHN CHARLES FREMONT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FABLE; ROME, 1875 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON LYDIA DISTRACTED; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 21. THE WORLD'S MARRIAGE MORN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |