Alexander Anderson

A Ballade of Tobacco Smoke

What fretting loads we mortals bear
 Through life, whose fading rainbows mock
And Time, who drives a splendid pair
 Of steeds he never will unyoke,
Sweeps his lean fingers through our hair,
 He scarcely leaves a decent lock,
Yet chide him not, if still he spare
 The dreams seen through tobacco smoke.

We each must have our little care
 To add by contrast to our joke,
A laugh that spreads in vain its snare
 To catch the lips of solemn folk.
Well, let us walk through all the fair,
 And watch the crowds that sway and shock;
They follow what we see elsewhere—
 The dreams seen through tobacco smoke.

Dreamers of dreams in ships of air,
 Whose keels have never entered dock,
I wish you may have sounder ware
 Than did Alnaschar when he woke!
Statesmen, when strife is high, forswear
 For half an hour the wordy stroke,
I fain would hint of better fare—
 The dreams seen through tobacco smoke!


Envoi

Prince, when you weary of the chair
 From which you govern realms and folk,
Your faithful bard would have you share
 The dreams seen through tobacco smoke.