BY MRS. ALFRED GATTY (ADAPTED) The Master of the Harvest walked by the side of his cornfields in the springtime. A frown was on his face, for there had been no rain for several weeks, and the earth was hard from the parching of the east wind... Read more of The Master Of The Harvest at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...



A GOOD CIGAR.








Oh, 'tis well and enough,
A whiff or a puff
From the heart of a pipe to get;
And a dainty maid
Or a budding blade
May toy with the cigarette;
But a man, when the time
Of a glorious prime
Dawns forth like a morning star,
Wants the dark-brown bloom
And the sweet perfume
That go with a good cigar.

To lazily float
In a painted boat
On a shimmering morning sea,
Or to flirt with a maid
In the afternoon shade
Seems good enough sport to be;
But the evening hour,
With its subtle power,
Is sweeter and better far,
If joined to the joy,
Devoid of alloy,
That lurks in a good cigar.

When a blanket wet
Is solidly set
O'er hopes prematurely grown;
When ambition is tame,
And energy lame,
And the bloom from the fruit is blown;
When to dance and to dine
With women and wine
Past poverty pleasures are,--
A man's not bereft
Of all peace, if there's left
The joy of a good cigar.

NORRIS BULL.




A glass is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

JOHN O'KEEFE: _Sprigs of Laurel_, Act ii. sc. i.





Next: MY FRIENDLY PIPE.

Previous: TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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