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Smoking Poems

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...



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.





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Previous: MY CIGARETTE.



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