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Smoking Poems

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

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

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

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...



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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