It is very important at the outset to consider the qualities of this very important line. In some hands it is broad and shallow on the surface of the hand, in others it is deep and fine; the appearance of this line is very often deceptive, and ... Read more of The Line Of Life at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...



TO C.F. BRADFORD.








_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._


The pipe came safe, and welcome, too,
As anything must be from you;
A meerschaum pure, 'twould float as light
As she the girls called Amphitrite.
Mixture divine of foam and clay,
From both it stole the best away:
Its foam is such as crowns the glow
Of beakers brimmed by Veuve Clicquot;
Its clay is but congested lymph
Jove chose to make some choicer nymph;
And here combined,--why, this must be
The birth of some enchanted sea,
Shaped to immortal form, the type
And very Venus of a pipe.

When high I heap it with the weed
From Lethe wharf, whose potent seed
Nicotia, big from Bacchus, bore
And cast upon Virginia's shore,
I'll think,--So fill the fairer bowl
And wise alembic of thy soul,
With herbs far-sought that shall distil,
Not fumes to slacken thought and will,
But bracing essences that nerve
To wait, to dare, to strive, to serve.

When curls the smoke in eddies soft,
And hangs a shifting dream aloft,
That gives and takes, though chance-designed,
The impress of the dreamer's mind,
I'll think,--So let the vapors bred
By passion, in the heart or head,
Pass off and upward into space,
Waving farewells of tenderest grace,
Remembered in some happier time,
To blend their beauty with my rhyme.

While slowly o'er its candid bowl
The color deepens (as the soul
That burns in mortals leaves its trace
Of bale or beauty on the face),
I'll think,--So let the essence rare
Of years consuming make me fair;
So, 'gainst the ills of life profuse,
Steep me in some narcotic juice;
And if my soul must part with all
That whiteness which we greenness call,
Smooth back, O Fortune, half thy frown,
And make me beautifully brown!

Dream-forger, I refill thy cup
With reverie's wasteful pittance up,
And while the fire burns slow away,
Hiding itself in ashes gray,
I'll think,--As inward Youth retreats,
Compelled to spare his wasting heats,
When Life's Ash-Wednesday comes about,
And my head's gray with fires burnt out,
While stays one spark to light the eye,
With the last flash of memory,
'Twill leap to welcome C.F.B.,
Who sent my favorite pipe to me.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.





Next: MY PIPE.

Previous: MY CIGAR.



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