On 1st February, 1891, Michael Conley, a farmer living near Ionia, in Chichasow county, Iowa, went to Dubuque, in Iowa, to be medically treated. He left at home his son Pat and his daughter Elizabeth, a girl of twenty-eight, a Catholic, in goo... Read more of The Satin Slippers at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...



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.



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 2488