MY PIPE.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me;
When friends are fled, thy presence charms me.
If thou art full, though purse be bare,
I smoke, and cast away all care!
_German Smoking Song._
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MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, and sound wine,-- The Roederer chilly to a charm, As Juno's breath the claret warm, The sherry of an ancient brand. No Persian pomp, you understand,-- A soup, a fish, two meats,... MEERSCHAUM.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organs play; And the torture they're inflicting Will vanish quite away. I open my study window And into the twilight peer, And my anxious eyes are watching For the man with my ... MOTTO FOR A TOBACCO JAR.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the goddess through a yard of clay; And soon you'll own she is the fairest maid To stifle pain, and drive old Care away. Nor deem it waste; what though to ash she burns, If for you... MY AFTER-DINNER CLOUD.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude at home, Perchance an ultra-bilious fit Paints all the world an orange chrome. When Fear and Care and grim Despair Flock round me in a ghostly crowd, One charm dispels t... MY CIGAR.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, And for every little pleasure has some pathologic bogy, Who will bear with no small vices, and grows dismally prophetic If I wander from the weary way of virtue dietetic; In spit... MY CIGARETTE.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet cigarette I am singing This joyous and bright bacca-role; Just now to my lips she was clinging, Her spirit was soothing my soul. With figure so slender and dapper I feel the ... MY CIGARETTE.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and sorrow, The magic wand that, far beyond To-day, can conjure up to-morrow. Like love's desire, thy crown of fire So softly with the twilight blending; And ah, meseems a poe... MY CIGARETTE.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry? Why this small tear, So pure and clear, In each blue eye? "My cigarette-- I 'm smoking yet?" (I'll be discreet.) I toss it, see, Away from me Into the str... MY FRIENDLY PIPE.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cigarettes, Whose opiates get in their pates Till waking brings regrets; Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes, Of troubles, and of frets. And let the chap who loves to nap ... MY LITTLE BROWN PIPE.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: It is not any woman's face Set in a golden locket; It is not any kind of purse; It is not book or letter, But yet at times I really think That it is something better. ... MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred and blackened form, For thou to me wilt ever be-- Whate'er betides the storm-- A casket filled with memories Of life's Auroral morn. Thou once wert fair like ivory rare; ... MY MEERSCHAUMS.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High carved and plain, dark-hued and creamy, Slim tubes for cigarettes reserved, And stout ones for Havanas dreamy. This cricket, on an amber spear Impaled, recalls that golden ... MY PIPE AND I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and true as steel. There are: and by their friendships firm Is life made only real. But, after all, of all these hearts That close with mine entwine, None lie so near, nor seem ... MY PIPE.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When friends are fled, thy presence charms me. If thou art full, though purse be bare, I smoke, and cast away all care! _German Smoking Song._ ... MY THREE LOVES.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty, Three loves were scattered in my way-- And three at once are plenty. Three hearts, if offered with a grace, One thinks not of refusing; The task in this especial case Was ... ODE TO MY PIPE.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, What joy is in thy smooth, round bowl, As black as coal! So sweetly wed To thy blanched, gradual thread, Like Desdemona to the Moor, Thou pleasure's core. ... ODE TO TOBACCO.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy suppliant attend In each dull, lonely hour; And though misfortunes lie around, Thicker than hailstones on the ground, I'll rest upon thy power. Then while the coxcomb, pert a... ODE TO TOBACCO.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Black Care, at the horseman's back Perching, unseatest; Sweet when the morn is gray; Sweet when they've cleared away Lunch; and at close of day Possibly sweetes... OLD PIPE OF MINE.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twixt night and morn Thy muse hath roamed through poesy's bowers Upon thy fragrant pinions borne. Let others seek the bliss that reigns In homage paid at beauty's shrine, We en... ON A BROKEN PIPE.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with living inspirations warm; Type of all other creatures formed of clay-- What more than it for epitaph have they? ... ON A TOBACCO JAR.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight and gentlemanne Did bring me here, to charm and chere, To physical and mental manne. God bless his soule who filled ye bowle, And may our blessings find him; That he not miss... ON RECEIPT OF A RARE PIPE.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the wrappages, stripe after stripe, And when the hidden contents were laid bare, My first remark was: "Mercy, what a pipe!" A pipe of symmetry that matched its size, Mounted wit... PERNICIOUS WEED!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a sentence at a time enough; The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain, Then pause and puff, and speak, and pause again. Such often, like the tube they so admire, Important triflers! h... PIPE AND TOBACCO.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need not envy here; And as the smoke fades in the wind, Our fleeting life it brings to mind. Noble weed! that comforts life, And art with calmest pleasures rife; Heaven grant thee ... PIPES AND BEER.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old under-ground room I knew, And sip cheap beer, and be glad for it, With a wild Bohemian friend or two. And oh, it was joy to loiter thus, At peace in the heart of the city's stir... SEASONABLE SWEETS.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When the year is young, what sweets are flung By the violets, hiding, dim, And the lilac that sways her censers high, Whilst the skylark chants a hymn! How sweet is the scent of the ...