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Smoking Poems

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...



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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