So must I those soporic Echoes woo
When, all my intermittent Joyaunce through,
Each Thrill must be a Threnod, as I know
That They Who Kiss can teach me nothing New.
XCVI
Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore, but Was I Smoking when I swore?
And ever and anon I made Resolve
And sealed the holy Pledge - with One Puff More.
XCVII
O Thou who sought our Fathers to enslave
And ev'n the Pipe to Walter Raleigh gave,
I love you still for your Redeeming Vice
And shower Tobacco Leaves upon your Grave!
XCVIII
Then let the balmed Tobacco be my Sheath,
The ardent Weed above me and beneath,
And let me like a Living Incense rise,
A Fifty-Cent Cigar between my Teeth.
XCIX
Havana's Witch-fog murks my Horoscope
Until my dream-enamoured Senses grope
Towards the Light, where in her opal Shrine
Smiles Hopefulness, the great Reward of Hope.
* * * * * * *