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Smoking Poems

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

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

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

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

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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



TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest,
Belov'd and honored by the wise,
Come filled with honest "Weekly's best,"
And kindled from the lofty skies.

While round me clouds of incense roll,
With guiltless joys you charm the sense,
And nobler pleasure to the soul
In hints of moral truth dispense.

Soon as you feel th' enliv'ning ray,
To dust you hasten to return,
And teach me that my earliest day
Began to give me to the urn.

But though thy grosser substance sink
To dust, thy purer part aspires;
This when I see, I joy to think
That earth but half of me requires.

Like thee, myself am born to die,
Made half to rise, and half to fall.
Oh, could I, while my moments fly,
The bliss you give me give to all!

_Gentleman's Magazine_, July, 1745.




In the smoke of my dear cigarito
Cloud castles rise gorgeous and tall;
And Eros, divine muchachito,
With smiles hovers over it all.

But dreaming, forgetting to cherish
The fire at my lips as it dies,
The dream and the rapture must perish,
And Eros descend from the skies.

O wicked and false muchachito,
Your rapture I yet may recall;
But, like my re-lit cigarito,
A bitterness tinges it all.

CAMILLA K. VON K.





Next: A GOOD CIGAR.
Previous: TOO GREAT A SACRIFICE.




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