A LOSS.
How hard a thing it is to part
From those we love and cherish;
How deeply does it pain one's heart
To know all things must perish!
And when a friend and comrade dear
Is lost to us forever,
We feel how frail are all things here,
Since e'en best friends must sever.
I, too, have lost a friend, who broke
Its power when care was near me;
And troubles disappeared in smoke
When he was by to cheer me.
But as friends fall when valued most,
Like fruit that over-ripe is.
My loved companion I have lost,--
That friend my meerschaum pipe is!
_Judy_ (1873).
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"A FREE PUFF."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twenty--well! I don't forget How I walked along, Humming a song Across the fields and down the lane By the country road, and back again To the dear old farm--thr... "KEATS TOOK SNUFF."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the praise-worthy editorial research of Mr. Burton Forman." So "Keats took snuff?" A few more years, When we are dead and famous--eh? Will they record our pipes and beers, An... 'TWAS OFF THE BLUE CANARIES.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer day, I sat upon the quarter deck, And whiffed my cares away; And as the volumed smoke arose, Like incense in the air, I breathed a sigh to think, in sooth, It was my la... A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er knew the Benedict's yoke; I worship a fairy-like, fanciful form, That goes up the chimney in smoke. I sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease, Without wife or bairns to prov... A BACHELOR'S VIEWS.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least its embers; A dog, a glass:-- 'Tis thus we pass Such hours as one remembers. Who'd wish to wed? Poor Cupid's dead These thousand years, I wager. The modern ma... A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the smoke-cloud _infra dig._, In which you could not see his wig, Involved in clouds of smoke. Quaint Lamb his wit would oft enshroud In smoke-igniting laughter loud, Lik... A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammering verse If I can a passage see In this word-perplexity, Or a fit expression find, Or a language to my mind (Still the phrase is wide or scant), To take leave of thee, GREAT... A GOOD CIGAR.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From the heart of a pipe to get; And a dainty maid Or a budding blade May toy with the cigarette; But a man, when the time Of a glorious prime Dawns forth like a morning star, W... A LOSS.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love and cherish; How deeply does it pain one's heart To know all things must perish! And when a friend and comrade dear Is lost to us forever, We feel how frail are all things ... A PIPE OF TOBACCO.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with alcohol moisten his thrapple, Only give me, I pray, a good pipe of soft clay, Nicely tapered and thin in the stapple; And I shall puff, puff, let who will say, "Enough!" No lu... A PIPE OF TOBACCO.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton of cooks, The lover of Celia's soft smack--O! No mortal can boast So noble a toast As a pipe of accepted tobacco. Let the soldier for fame, And a ... A POET'S PIPE.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe am I, And my Abyssinian tint Is an unmistakable hint That he lays me not often by. When his soul is with grief o'erworn I smoke like the cottage where They are cooking the ... A POT, AND A PIPE OF TOBACCO.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant enough To those who have got the right knack, O! But give me, my boys, Those exquisite joys, A pot, and a pipe of tobacco. When fume follows fume To the top ... A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's golden days That smoking came in fashion; And from the court it quickly spread Throughout the English nation. The courtiers first the lesson learnt, And burn'd the fragrant t... A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and take her ease, She loves to smoke a cigarette; To dream in silken hammockette, And sing and swing beneath the trees, A pretty, piquant, pouting pet. Her Christian name is V... A VALENTINE.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No. Alina? No. It does end with "ina," though. Guess again. Christina? No; Guess again. Wilhelmina? No. She reciprocates my flame, Cheers me wheresoe'er I go, Never fo... A WARNING.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world and men through others' eyes; My own are good enough for me. These scribbling fellows I despise; They bore me. I used to try to read a bit, But, when I did, a sleepy... A WINTER EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewildering juice, We worship, unforbid of thee; And as her incense floats and curls In airy spires and wayward whirls, Or poises on its tremulous stalk A flower of frailest reverie... ACROSTIC.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankered care bring radiant smiles, Best gift of Love to mortals given! At once the bud and bliss of Heaven! Crownless are kings uncrowned by thee; Content the serf in thy sweet liberty,... AD NICOTINA.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the praise of wine; I'll tolerate no queen But one fair nymph of spotless line, The gentle Nicotine. Her breath's as sweet as any flower's, No matter where it blows, And makes ... AN ENCOMIUM ON TOBACCO.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And thus produce so rich a Margarite! It is the fountain whence all pleasure springs, A potion for imperial and mighty kings. He that is master of so rich a store May laugh at Croe... AN ODE OF THANKS FOR CERTAIN CIGARS.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still makes shifts, To mix a mortal with her gifts, Which he may find who duly sifts. Sweets to the sweet,--behold the clue! Why not, then, new things to the gnu, And trews to Hig... AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known, So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till in shadowy design I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine. The lamplight... ANOTHER MATCH.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, And I were like the weed, Oh! we would live together And love the jolly weather, And bask in sunshine golden, Rare pals of choicest breed; If love were dhudeen olden, ... ASHES.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brier brown, And watch the ashes settle down In lambent flashes; While thro' the blue, thick, curling haze, I strive with feeble eyes to gaze, Upon the half-forgotten days ...