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; When the long tale, renew'd when last they met, Is spliced anew, and is unfinish'd yet; When but a few are left the house to tire, And they half sleeping by the sleepy fire; E'en the poor ventilating vane that flew Of late so fast, is now grown drowsy too; When sweet, cold, clammy punch its aid bestows, Then thus the midnight conversation flows: - "Then, as I said, and--mind me--as I say, At our last meeting--you remember"--"Ay?" "Well, very well--then freely as I drink I spoke my thought--you take me--what I think. And, sir, said I, if I a Freeman be, It is my bounden duty to be free." "Ay, there you posed him: I respect the Chair, But man is man, although the man's a mayor; If Muggins live--no, no!--if Muggins die, He'll quit his office--neighbour, shall I try?" "I'll speak my mind, for here are none but friends: They're all contending for their private ends; No public spirit--once a vote would bring, I say a vote--was then a pretty thing; It made a man to serve his country and his king: But for that place, that Muggins must resign, You've my advice--'tis no affair of mine." ---------------------- The Poor Man has his Club: he comes and spends His hoarded pittance with his chosen friends; Nor this alone,--a monthly dole he pays, To be assisted when his health decays; Some part his prudence, from the day's supply, For cares and troubles in his age, lays by; The printed rules he guards with painted frame, And shows his children where to read his name; Those simple words his honest nature move, That bond of union tied by laws of love; This is his pride, it gives to his employ New value, to his home another joy; While a religious hope its balm applies For all his fate inflicts, and all his state denies. Much would it please you, sometimes to explore The peaceful dwellings of our Borough poor: To view a sailor just return'd from sea, His wife beside; a child on either knee, And others crowding near, that none may lose The smallest portions of the welcome news; What dangers pass'd, "When seas ran mountains high, When tempest raved, and horrors veil'd the sky; When prudence fail'd, when courage grew dismay'd, When the strong fainted, and the wicked pray'd, - Then in the yawning gulf far down we drove, And gazed upon the billowy mount above; Till up that mountain, swinging with the gale, We view'd the horrors of the watery vale." The trembling children look with steadfast eyes, And, panting, sob involuntary sighs: Soft sleep awhile his torpid touch delays, And all is joy and piety and praise. --------------------