CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER.
I owe to smoking, more or less,
Through life the whole of my success;
With my cigar I'm sage and wise,—
Without, I'm dull as cloudy skies.
When smoking, all my ideas soar,
When not, they sink upon the floor.
The greatest men have all been smokers,
And so were all the greatest jokers.
Then ye who'd bid adieu to care,