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Smoking Poems

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

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

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

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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



THE LATEST CONVERT.








I've been in love some scores of times,
With Amy, Nellie, Katie, Mary--
To name them all would stretch my rhymes
From here as far as Demerary.

But each has wed some other man,--
Girls always do, I find, in real life,--
And I am left alone to scan
The horizon of my own ideal life.

I still survive. I was, I think,
Not born to run in double harness;
I did not shirk my food and drink
When Nellie married Harry Carnice.

But I am wedded to my pipe!
That faithful friend, nought can provoke it;
Should it grow cold, I gently wipe
Its mouth, then fill it, light, and smoke it.

But it is sweet to kiss; and I
Should love to kiss a wife and pet her--
She scolds? Straight to my pipe I fly;
Her scowls through fragrant smoke look better.

There's merry Maud--with her I'd dare
To brave the matrimonial ocean;
_She_ would not pout or fret, but wear
A constant smile of sweet devotion.

How know I that she will not change,
My wishes at defiance set? Oh!
(Pray this in smallest type arrange)
She smokes--at times--a cigareto.

F.W. LITTLETON HAY.





Next: CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER.

Previous: PIPE AND TOBACCO.



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