Chessmen

CHAFING on flags of ebony and pearl,

My paladins are waiting. Loops of smoke

Stoop slowly from the coffee-cups, and curl

In thin fantastic patterns down the room

By cabinets of chinaware, to whirl

With milky-blue tobacco-steam, and fume

Together past our pipes, outside the door.

Soon may we lounge in silence, O my friend,

Behind those carven men-at-arms of chess

Dyed coral-red with dragon's blood, and spend

The night with noiseless warfare. Queens and rooks

With chiselled ivory warriors must contend

And counter-plots from old Arabian books

Be conjured to the march of knights and pawns.