Quit Smoking Deep Breath

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Who knows whither the clouds have fled?
In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake,
And the eyes forget the tears they have shed,
The heart forgets its sorrow and ache;
The soul partakes the season’s youth,
And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe
Lie deep ‘neath a silence pure and smooth,
Like burnt-out craters healed with snow.
—James Russell Lowell (1819–1891)

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Then down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the midday
suns,
You’ll find the chaps who are giving the raps—the men behind the guns!
—John Jerome Rooney (1866–1934)