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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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



LATAKIA.








I.

When all the panes are hung with frost,
Wild wizard-work of silver lace,
I draw my sofa on the rug,
Before the ancient chimney-place.
Upon the painted tiles are mosques
And minarets, and here and there
A blind muezzin lifts his hands,
And calls the faithful unto prayer.
Folded in idle, twilight dreams,
I hear the hemlock chirp and sing,
As if within its ruddy core
It held the happy heart of Spring.
Ferdousi never sang like that,
Nor Saadi grave, nor Hafiz gay;
I lounge, and blow white rings of smoke,
And watch them rise and float away.


II.

The curling wreaths like turbans seem
Of silent slaves that come and go,--
Or Viziers, packed with craft and crime,
Whom I behead from time to time,
With pipe-stem, at a single blow.
And now and then a lingering cloud
Takes gracious form at my desire,
And at my side my lady stands,
Unwinds her veil with snowy hands,--
A shadowy shape, a breath of fire!

O Love, if you were only here
Beside me in this mellow light,
Though all the bitter winds should blow,
And all the ways be choked with snow,
'Twould be a true Arabian night!

T.B. ALDRICH.





Next: MY AFTER-DINNER CLOUD.

Previous: 'TWAS OFF THE BLUE CANARIES.



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