A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire,
I ne'er knew the Benedict's yoke;
I worship a fairy-like, fanciful form,
That goes up the chimney in smoke.
I sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease,
Without wife or bairns to provoke,
And puff at my pipe, while my hopes and my fears
All go up the chimney in smoke.