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.