Calyx . Page Two hundred forty-eight. Give me an arm-chair spacious, A volume rich and rare,A glowing hearth, my tried, true friend, And on magic wings flies matters wealth and honors? What matters the puff of fame?While I hold thus securely My chum and an honored confine to her in the twilight, When the night creeps slowly on;The wounds of day have vanished Or are lost in contented song. Give me a nook, away, apart, No formal social code;With my actions unrestricted By the decalogues of Ill make my day-dreams round her, As the blue smoke rifts the air,Inspired with

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Calyx . Page Two hundred forty-eight. Give me an arm-chair spacious, A volume rich and rare,A glowing hearth, my tried, true friend, And on magic wings flies matters wealth and honors? What matters the puff of fame?While I hold thus securely My chum and an honored confine to her in the twilight, When the night creeps slowly on;The wounds of day have vanished Or are lost in contented song. Give me a nook, away, apart, No formal social code;With my actions unrestricted By the decalogues of Ill make my day-dreams round her, As the blue smoke rifts the air,Inspired with sweetest fancies, No feast of the Gods I would changing from praise to blame She believes me ever right—My one love, bless her! eer the same— My good, old jimmy pipe. —G. T. H.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidcalyx18wash, bookyear1918