Open the old cigar-box,—let me consider anew,—
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba: I hold to my first-sworn vows,
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for spouse!
RUDYARD KIPLING.
ON A BROKEN PIPE.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form,