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Smoking Poems

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...



A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE.








A pretty, piquant, pouting pet,
Who likes to muse and take her ease,
She loves to smoke a cigarette;

To dream in silken hammockette,
And sing and swing beneath the trees,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

Her Christian name is Violet;
Her eyes are blue as summer skies;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

As calm as babe in bassinette,
She swingeth in the summer breeze,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

She ponders o'er a novelette;
Her parasol is Japanese;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

She loves a fume without a fret;
Her frills are white, her frock _cerise_,--
A pretty, pouting, piquant pet.

She almost goes to sleep, and yet,
Half-lulled by booming honey-bees,
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

A winsome, clever, cool coquette,
Who flouts all Grundian decrees,--
pretty, pouting, piquant pet,
That loves to smoke a cigarette.

_Harper's Bazaar_.





Next: IT MAY BE WEEDS.

Previous: A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE.



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