He, being three times importuned,—awoke.
As from his corncob pipe and nostrils broke
The spiral wreaths of blue tobacco smoke,
Which formed a smoky halo, as they spread
A foot above his venerable head,
Resembling halos which the artist paints
O'er angel heads, or mediæval saints,
This man of years, so calm and circumspect,
Stroked his long beard, yawned twice and stood erect.
Like to a wizard, or magician old,