"You must choose between me and your cigar"- Breach of Promise Case, circa 1885

 

Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,

For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.

 

We quarreled about Havanas - we fought o'er a good cheroot,

And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.

 

Open the old cigar-box, let me consider a space;

In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.

 

Maggie is pretty to look at, Maggies a loving lass,

But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.

 

There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;

But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away-

 

Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown-

But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!

 

Maggie, my wife at fifty - grey and dour and old-

With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!

 

And the light of days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,

And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar-

 

The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket-

With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket!

 

Open the old cigar-box, let me consider a while.

Here is a mild Manila - there is a wifely smile.

 

Which is the better portion - bondage bought with a ring,

Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?

 

Counselors cunning and silent - comforters true and tried,

And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?

 

Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,

Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,

 

This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,

With only a Suttee's passion - to do their duty and burn.

 

This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,

Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.

 

The furrows of far off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,

When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.

 

I will take no heed of their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,

So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.

 

I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,

And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.

 

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between

The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen.

 

And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,

But I have been priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;

 

And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light

Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.

 

And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,

But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.

 

Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?

Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire? 

 

Open the old cigar-box, let me consider anew-

Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?

 

A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;

And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.

 

Light me another Cuba, I hold to my first-sworn vows.

If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse!

 

 

The Ballad of East and West

1889

 

Oh, East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,

Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great judgement seat;

But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,

When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the Earth!

 

Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border-side,

And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride.

He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day,

And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.

Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides:

"Is there a man of all my men who knows where Kamal hides?"

Then up and spoke Mohammed Khan, the son of the Ressalder:

"If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are,

"At dusk he harries the Abazi - at dawn he is in to Bonair,

"But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare,

"So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly,

"By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai.

"But if he is past the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then,

"For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal's men.

"There is rock to the left, and rock to the right , and low lean thorn between,

"And ye may hear a breach-bolt snick where never a man is seen."

 

The Colonel's son has taken horse, and a raw rough dun was he,

With the mouth of a bell and the heart of hell and the head of a gallows tree.

The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat-

Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.

He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly,

Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back,

And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack,

He has fired once , he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.

"Ye shoot like a soldier," Kamal said. "Show now if ye can ride!"

It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust devils go

The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.

The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,

But  the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove.

There was rock to the left and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,

And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho' never a man was seen.

They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn,

The dun went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new roused fawn.

The dun he fell at a water-course - in a woeful heap fell he,

And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.

He has knocked the pistol out of his hand - small room was there to strive,

"Twas only by favour of mine," quoth he, "ye rode so long alive:

"There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,

"But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.

"If I had held my bridle hand, as I have held it low,

"The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row.

"If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,

"The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly."

Lightly answered the Colonel's son: "Do good to bird and beast,

"But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast.

"If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away,

"Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than a thief could pay.

"They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain.

"The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain.

"But if thou thinkest the price be fair, - thy brethren wait to sup,

"The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, - howl dog and call them up!

"And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack,

"Give me my fathers mare again, and I'll fight my own way back!"

Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet.

"No talk shall be of dogs," said he, "when wolf and grey wolf meet,

"May I eat dirt if thou has hurt of me in deed or breath;

"What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with death?

Lightly answered the Colonel's son: "I hold by the blood of my clan;

"Take up the mare for thy fathers gift - by God, she has carried a man!"

The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and nuzzled against his breast;

"We be two strong men," said Kamal then, "but she loveth the younger best.

"So she shall go with a lifters dower, my turquoise-studded rein,

"My broidered saddle and saddle cloth, and silver stirrups twain."

The Colonel's son a pistol drew, and held it muzzle end,

"Ye have taken the one from a foe," said he "Will ye take the mate from a friend?"

"A gift for a gift," said Kamal straight; "a limb for the risk of a limb.

"Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him!"

With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain crest-

He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest.

"Now here is thy master," Kamal said, "who leads a troop of the Guides,

"And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides.

"Till death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed,

"Thy life is his - thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.

"So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine,

"And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the border line.

"And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power-

"Belike they will raise thee to Ressalder when I am hanged in Peshawur!"

 

They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault.

They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt:

They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh cut sod,

On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God.

The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the dun,

And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.

And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, Full twenty swords flew clear-

There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.

"Ha' done! ha' done!" said the Colonel's son. "Put up the steel at your sides!

"Last night ye had struck at a border thief; to-night 'tis a man of the Guides!"

 

Oh, East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,

Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great judgement seat;

But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,

When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the Earth!