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Smoking Poems

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

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

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...



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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