le
When we three sat o'er our good cups of wine.

Ah, happy days, when the old Chapel House,
Of the old Forest Chapel, rang with mirth,
And the great joy of our divine carouse,
As we hobnobbed it by the blazing hearth!

We never more, old pipe, shall see those days,
Whose memories lie like pictures in my mind;
But thou and I will go the self-same ways,
E'en though we leave all other friends behind.

And for thy sake, and for my own, and his,
We will be one, as we have ever been,
Thou dear old friend, with thy most honest phiz,
And no new faces come our loves between.

II.

Thou hast thy separate virtues, honest pipe!
Apart from all the memory of friends:
For thou art mellow, old, and black, and ripe;
And the good weed that in its smoke ascends

From thy rare bowl doth scent the liberal air
With incense richer than the woods of Ind.
E'en to the barren palate of despair
(Inhaled through cedar tubes from glorious Scinde!)

It hath a charm would quicken into life,
And make the heart gush out in streams of love,
And the earth, dead before, with beauty rife,
And full of flowers as heaven of stars above.

It is thy virtue and peculiar gift,
Thou sooty wizard of the potent weed;
No other pipe can thus the soul uplift,
Or such rare fancies and high musings breed.

I've tried full many of thy kith and kind,
Dug from thy native Asiatic clay,
Fashioned by cunning hand and curious mind
Into all shapes and features, grave and gay,--

Black niggers' heads with their white-livered eyes
Glaring in fiery horror through the smoke,
And monstrous dragons stained with bloody dyes,
And comelier forms; but all save thee I broke.

For though, like thee, each pipe was black and old,
They were not wiser for their many years,
Nor knew thy sorcery though set in gold,
Nor had thy tropic taste,--these proud compeers!

Like great John Paul, who would have loved thee well,
Thou art the "only one" of all thy race;
Nor shall another comrade near thee dwell,
Old King of pipes! my study's pride and grace!

III.

Thus have I made "assurance doubly sure,"
And sealed it twice, that thou shalt reign alone!
And as the dainty bee doth search for pure,
Sweet honey till his laden thighs do groan

With their sweet burden, tasting nothing foul,
So thou of best tobacco shalt be filled;
And when the starry midnight wakes the owl,