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Smoking Poems

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...



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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