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Smoking Poems

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

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

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

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

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

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...



THE BALLADE OF TOBACCO.








When verdant youth sees life afar,
And first sets out wild oats to sow,
He puffs a stiff and stark cigar,
And quaffs champagne of Mumm & Co.
He likes not smoking yet; but though
Tobacco makes him sick indeed,
Cigars and wine he can't forego,--
A slave is each man to the weed.

In time his tastes more dainty are
And delicate. Become a beau,
From out the country of the czar
He brings his cigarettes, and lo!
He sips the vintage of Bordeaux.
Thus keener relish shall succeed
The baser liking we outgrow,--
A slave is each man to the weed

When age and his own lucky star
To him perfected wisdom show,
The schooner glides across the bar,
And beer for him shall freely flow;
A pipe with genial warmth shall glow,
To which he turns in direst need,
To seek in smoke surcease of woe,--
A slave is each man to the weed.





Next: ENVOI.

Previous: MY CIGARETTE.



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