Query any poem you want.

I sit before the firelight's glow

With all the world in apogee,

And con good Master Florio

With pipe a-light; and as I see

Queen Bess herself with book a-knee,

Reading it o'er and o'er again,

Here, 'neath my cosy mantel-tree,

I smoke my pipe and read Montaigne.

  

Now howls the wind and drives the snow;

The traveler shivers on the lea;

While, with my precious folio,

Behold a happy devotee

To book and warmth and reverie!

The blast upon the window-pane

Disturbs me not, as trouble-free,

I smoke my pipe and read Montaigne.

  

I am content, and thus I know

A mind as calm as summer sea, -

A heart that stranger is to woe.

To happiness I hold the key

In this rare, sweet philosophy;

And while the Fates so fair ordain,

Well pleased with Destiny's decree,

I smoke my pipe and read Montaigne.

  

  

ENVOY

  

Dear Prince! aye, more than prince to me,

Thou monarch of immortal reign!

Always thy subject I would be,

And smoke my pipe and read Montaigne!