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Smoking Poems

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

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

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

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

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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



INVOCATION TO TOBACCO.








Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth,
Killer of dulness, parent of mirth,
Come in the sad hour, come in the gay,
Appear in the night, or in the day,--
Still thou art welcome as June's blooming rose,
Joy of the palate, delight of the nose.

Weed of the green field, weed of the wild,
Fostered in freedom, America's child,
Come in Virginia, come in Havana,
Friend of the universe, sweeter than manna,--
Still thou art welcome, rich, fragrant, and ripe,
Pride of the tube-case, delight of the pipe.

Weed of the savage, weed of each pole,
Comforting, soothing, philosophy's soul,
Come in the snuff-box, come in cigar,
In Strasburgh and King's, come from afar,--
Still thou art welcome, the purest, the best,
Joy of earth's millions, forever carest.

HENRY JAMES MELLEN.





Next: VIRGINIA TOBACCO.

Previous: GEORDIE TO HIS TOBACCO-PIPE.



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