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Smoking Poems

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

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

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

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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



MY MEERSCHAUMS.








Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved,
High carved and plain, dark-hued and creamy,
Slim tubes for cigarettes reserved,
And stout ones for Havanas dreamy.

This cricket, on an amber spear
Impaled, recalls that golden weather
When love and I, too young to fear
Heartburn, smoked cigarettes together.

And even now--too old to take
The little papered shams for flavor--
I light it oft for her sweet sake
Who gave it, with her girlish favor.

And here's the mighty student bowl
Whose tutoring in and after college
Has led me nearer wisdom's goal
Than all I learned of text-book knowledge.

"It taught me?" Ay, to hold my tongue,
To keep a-light, and yet burn slowly,
To break ill spells around me flung
As with the enchanted whiff of Moly.

This nargileh, whose hue betrays
Perique from soft Louisiana,
In Egypt once beguiled the days
Of Tewfik's dreamy-eyed Sultana.

Speaking of color,--do you know
A maid with eyes as darkly splendid
As are the hues that, rich and slow,
On this Hungarian bowl have blended?

Can artist paint the fiery glints
Of this quaint finger here beside it,
With amber nail,--the lustrous tints,
A thousand Partagas have dyed it?

"And this old silver patched affair?"
Well, sir, that meerschaum has its reasons
For showing marks of time and wear;
For in its smoke through fifty seasons

My grandsire blew his cares away!
And then, when done with life's sojourning,
At seventy-five dropped dead one day,
That pipe between his set teeth burning!

"Killed him?" No doubt! it's apt to kill
In fifty year's incessant using--
Some twenty pipes a day. And still,
On that ripe, well-filled, lifetime musing,

I envy oft so bright a part,--
To live as long as life's a treasure;
To die of--not an aching heart,
But--half a century of pleasure!

Well, well! I'm boring you, no doubt;
How these old memories will undo one--
I see you've let your weed go out;
That's wrong! Here, light yourself a new one!

CHARLES F. LUMMIS.





Next: ODE TO TOBACCO.

Previous: WHAT I LIKE.



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