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Smoking Poems

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

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



AD NICOTINA.








"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._"


Let others sing the praise of wine;
I'll tolerate no queen
But one fair nymph of spotless line,
The gentle Nicotine.
Her breath's as sweet as any flower's,
No matter where it blows,
And makes this dull old world of ours
The color of the rose.

There's not a pang but she can soothe,
Nor spell but she can break,
And e'en the hardest lot can smooth,
And bid us courage take.
Fair Nicotine! thou dost atone
For many an aching heart;
And I for one will gladly own
The magic of thine art.

Ah, "friendly traitress," "loving foe,"
Forgive this loving lay;
For I, thy worshipper, would show
The sweetness of thy sway.
"Sublime tobacco!" may thy reign
Ne'er for one moment cease;
For thou, Great Plant, art kin to brain,
And synonym for peace.

E.H.S.





Next: MEERSCHAUM.

Previous: A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.



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