I took a third class-car: an aged priest

Produced a small pipe and out the window placed,

Into the breeze, his brow with pallid hair,

Then this Christian, braving rudeness there,

Turning back, asked me like a cinch

And sadly at the same time for a pinch

Of tobacco—once the headmost chaplain

Of a royal scion condemned yet again—

To ease a tunnel’s boredom, somber vein

Offered to travelers, near Soissons, city of Aisne.

Arthur Rimbaud