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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

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

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...



THE SMOKER'S CALENDAR.








When January's cold appears,
A glowing pipe my spirit cheers;
And still it glads the length'ning day
'Neath February's milder sway.
When March's keener winds succeed,
What charms me like the burning weed
When April mounts the solar car,
I join him, puffing a cigar;
And May, so beautiful and bright,
Still finds the pleasing weed a-light.
To balmy zephyrs it gives zest
When June in gayest livery's drest.
Through July, Flora's offspring smile,
But still Nicotia's can beguile;
And August, when its fruits are ripe,
Matures my pleasure in a pipe.
September finds me in the garden,
Communing with a long churchwarden.
Even in the wane of dull October
I smoke my pipe and sip my "robar."
November's soaking show'rs require
The smoking pipe and blazing fire.
The darkest day in drear December's--
That's lighted by their glowing embers.

ANON.





Next: AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.

Previous: CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER.



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