Life's Bloomy Flush Was Lost.

An Infatuated Man Is Not Only Foolish, But Wild.

Fashion, Though Folly's Child, And Guide Of Fools, Rules E'en The Wisest, And In Learning Rules.

A Club There Is Of Smokers--dare You Come To That Close, Clouded, Hot, Narcotic Room? When, Midnight Past, The Very Candles Seem Dying For Air, And Give A Ghastly Gleam; When Curling Fumes In Lazy Wreaths Arise, And Prosing Topers Rub Their Winking Eyes.

Lo! The Poor Toper Whose Untutored Sense, Sees Bliss In Ale, And Can With Wine Dispense; Whose Head Proud Fancy Never Taught To Steer, Beyond The Muddy Ecstasies Of Beer.

Who Calls A Lawyer Rogue, May Find, Too Lateupon One Of These Depends His Whole Estate.