The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-05-10
A Law of the Pipe.

A Lay of the Pipe.
Give up nv pipel Indeed Illnot
What is the goodl You don't knew what
There is in this plain bowl of clay
To light the gloom of many day,
To cheer when sad. to check when mad
A better friend man never had
On wreaths of smoke gently aoat,
AS in the air dancing mote;
Der seas | sail to another land
By SUMMER skies than ours enspann'd;
In the vapor blue brightly drawn
Pictures of distant days agone,
And dreams of that which is 10 be
Somewhere this side the shOreless sea.
Sweeter than words that tongue eer spoke
Are the words you speak to me, dear smoksi
Fsirer than Peri'S paradise,
The visions which glow as you arisei
owe you more than ! could pay
If should live until judgment day;
Use who will the drug Of the East
That makes OF man sodden BEAST
Drink who like it. the hell-born curse,
Draughts of which make devil worseF
But, let who may like ravens croak,
I'll I'LL nay pipe and have smoke.
II takes me back TO my boyhood days
Which shine like gems, through vanishing hazei
1t takes me back to the dear old town
High Oh the banks where the stream ran down,
Nesting between the wooded hill
And the gray sides of the ancient MILL
While the meadows green and fields beyond
swept far away to the distant pond
On wings Of smoke hover there;
hear again my mothers prayer;
NV hand in hers, by her side kneei;
With simple faith make chlds appealS
NESTLE once more in her embrace
l feel her kisses on my face;
Ny arms about her neck entwiue;
All! golden days of auld lang syne.
Aged aud gray; but slightly bent
Yet arm as a marble monument,
Nv father there, his counsel sage
A lesson for youth to learn from agei
His mid rebuke, his gentle frown
As wayword act would call them down,
His approving look that e'er betrayed
sanction words had never said.
gaze at him aud he at me;
What he has been in his eye see,
And he ia mine what may be.
4 school-house peeps from fringe Of trees,
And voices faint as the hum of bees
Come floating up to my eager ear,
Recalling many playmate dear,
The village sports and rustic games.
Mingled with alf-forgotten names;
The banks EMPOWERED in boughs of greefe
The creek that sung its song between,
Beneath whose waves in days of yore,
The boys had Owed from shore to shoret
The forests where. at night and noon,
They had hunted squirrel fox and coouI
The sugar camp Of Farmer Dunn,
Where the kettles boiled; there all was fun
And pilfered eggs and poultry spread
A supper ut for o crowned head.
There biueeyed girls with locks of gold,
(AlaS! that such they grow odl
With hearts as light summers day
When winds of June 'mong the roses play1
With childish likes, and budding loves
As pure the toying of turtle doves,
And lips awaiting the virgin kiss
That opens a boundless realm of bliss.
The sweetest hours that ever came
10 ardent man or austere dame
Have in them nothing which compare
With even the dream that fingers there.
Across the road on the shady side,
Where, leaf -embosomed, the tombstones hide,
Behind the church are unsystemd found,
In newInade grave and grass grown mound,
Reposing there, untroubled more,
Infant babe and grandsire boar,
MatrOn and maid and loving wife,
All unheeding the busy strife
Which RACES and roars above, around
The quiet peace of that holy ground.
hear, In tho smoke my pipe sends out
The victims cry, the victors shout;
The song of joy when the goal is
Where followed the heart by hope led oni
The shrek of woe from souls that fail
The dreariest and htterest wall
Ever uttered from throat of fear
To fall in horror mortal ear.
l see the castles my fancy built
With marble columns and doors of git,
With stately halls and bowers of flowers,
Where droned the fight of the lazy hourss
Halls in which never have dwelt
Dreaned-of joys have never felt.
She scent of the flowers has died away
Ny castles and hopes are dust to-day.
But nay pipe is ont. Not going yet9
The days are many since first we met
The boys and girls in the dear old town
High on the banks where the stream ran DOWN
There in graves where our fathers sleep,
Lies buried in grave wide and deep,
Our youth. Good night I'll fill again
MY pipe and soothe away the pain,
Not bitter pain. but that sweet sense
Which lover feels when in suspense
But OF what is there would not give
That life of mine again to hvel
All here's a match. IL only-if-
III drown that il in hearty whifl
How, In the film of the azure smoke,
The tragic Of life is turned to Joke,
And care evanisbes from my sight!
Good night, my dear Meerschaum good night
B. X. Higinbotha
FRANKFORT Ind.