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Smoking Poems

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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



IF I WERE KING.








If I were king, my pipe should be premier.
The skies of time and chance are seldom clear,
We would inform them all, with bland blue weather.
Delight alone would need to shed a tear,
For dream and deed should war no more together.

Art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear;
Beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather;
And love, sweet love, should never fall to sere,
If I were king.

But politics should find no harbour near;
The Philistine should fear to slip his tether;
Tobacco should be duty free, and beer;
In fact, in room of this, the age of leather,
An age of gold all radiant should appear,
If I were king.

W.E. HENLEY.





Next: THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF.

Previous: A POT, AND A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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