A good cigar, long, brown, and fat, Is nothing to be marveled at; And yet within its russet shell What wonder-working secrets dwell, What close-coiled, soothing fancies that, Freed in the smoke, life's ills combat Successfully, till cares that sat Astride the mind are lost in—well, A good cigar. How soon it prompts a social chat When cronies barter tit for tat Or tales of strange adventure tell! What single blessing can excel Grim trouble's blissful burning-ghat— A good cigar? |