"The gorgeous glories of autumnal dyes;
The golden glow that haloes rare old wine;
The dying hectic of the day's decline;
The rainbow radiance of auroral skies;
The blush of Beauty, smit with Love's surprise;
The unimagined hues in gems that shine,--
All these, O Nicotina, _may_ be thine!
But what of thy bewildered votaries?
How fares it with the more precious human clay?
Keeps the _lip_ pure, while wood and ivory stains?
Stays the _sight_ clear, while smoke obscures the day?
Works the _brain_ true, while poison fills the veins?
Shines the _soul_ fair where Tophet-blackness reigns?
Let shattered nerves declare! Let palsied manhood say!"
J. IVES PEASE.