TO S. L. CLEMENS.
Mark Twain, on sailing for Bermuda, said that this cigar was his only pal.
Your only pal! Since first you wrote
Your pals began to troop your way,
And Fate has never struck a note
Of sorrow, and the smiling way
Of fortune never opened wide
That we weren't by your side.
Your only pal! Why, Mark, you seem
To overlook ten million folks
Who weep when sorrows 'round you teem -
You can't discard us as old jokes!
Your chasms never opened wide
That we weren't at your side.
Your only pal! Sam Clemens, you!
When you say that, don't treat us right;
Your pals are millions and they're true
Until the coming of the Night.
Mark twain, mark thrice before you chide
Old friends who have not died!
JOHN A. MOROSO.
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