POETRY OF SMOKE. 43 



Thou in such a cloud dost bind us 

 That our worst foes cannot find us, 

 And ill fortune, that would thwart us, 

 Shoots at. rovers, shooting at us ; 

 While each man, through thy height'ning 



steam 



Does like a smoking Etna seem, 

 And all about us does express 

 (Fancy and wit in richest dress) 

 A Sicilian fruitfulness. 



Thou through such a mist dost show us 

 That our best friends do not know us, 

 And for those allowed features, 

 Due to reasonable creatures, 

 Liken'st us to fell Chimeras- 

 Monsters that, who see us, fear us ; 

 Worse than Cerberus or Geryon 

 Or, who first loved a cloud, Ixion. 



Bacchus we know, and we allow 

 His tipsy rites. But what art thou, 

 That but by reflex canst show 

 What his deity can do, 

 AS the false Egyptian spell 

 Aped the true Hebrew miracle, 

 Some few vapors thou may'st raise, 

 The weak brain may serve to amaze, 

 But to the reins and nobler heart 

 Canst not life nor heat impart. 



Brother of Bacchus, later born, 

 The old world was sure forlorn 



