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Smoking Poems

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

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



SEASONABLE SWEETS.








"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS.


When the year is young, what sweets are flung
By the violets, hiding, dim,
And the lilac that sways her censers high,
Whilst the skylark chants a hymn!
How sweet is the scent of the daffodil bloom,
When blithe spring decks each spray,
And the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume
Through the beautiful month of May!
What a dainty pet is the mignonette,
Whose sweets wide scattered are!
But sweeter to me than all these yet
Is the scent of a prime cigar!

Delicious airs waft the fields of June,
When the beans are all in flower;
The woodruff is fragrant in the hedge,
And the woodbine in the bower.
Sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine
For the blithe hours as they run,
And balmily sighs the meadow-sweet,
That is all in love with the sun,
Whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay
Flings odorous airs afar;
Yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze
Is the scent of a prime cigar.

When all the beauties of Flora's court
Smile on the gay parterre,
What glorious color, what exquisite form,
And dainty scents are there!
They bask in the beam, and bend by the stream,
Like beautiful nymphs at play,
Holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup
To the glorious God of Day.
Oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief,
And death doth their sweetness mar;
But fragrance fine is forever thine,
My well-beloved cigar!

C.





Next: GEORDIE TO HIS TOBACCO-PIPE.

Previous: IT MAY BE WEEDS.



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