Smoking Poems

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

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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