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Smoking Poems

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...



CHIBOUQUE.








At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan,
The pacha in his palace lolls at ease;
Latakieh fumes his sensual palate please,
While round-limbed almees dance near his divan.

Slaves lure away _ennui_ with flowers and fan;
And as his gem-tipped chibouque glows, he sees,
In dreamy trance, those marvellous mysteries
The prophet sings of in the Al-Koran!

Pale, dusk-eyed girls, with sequin-studded hair,
Dart through the opal clouds like agile deer,
With sensuous curves his fancy to provoke,--
Delicious houris, ravishing and fair,
Who to his vague and drowsy mind appear
Like fragrant phantoms arabesqued in smoke!

FRANCIS S. SALTUS.





Next: IN ROTTEN ROW.

Previous: THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF.



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