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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

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

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

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

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

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

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



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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