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Smoking Poems

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

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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

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



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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