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 daffodil bloom,
When blithe spring decks each spray,
And the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume
Through the beautif
What a dainty pet is the mignonette,
Whose sweets wide scattered are!
But sweeter to me than all these yet
Is the scent of a prime cigar!
Delicious airs waft the fields of June,
When the beans are all in flower;
The woodruff is fragrant in the hedge,
And the woodbine in the bower.
Sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine
For the blithe hours as they run,
And balmily sighs the meadow-sweet,
That is all in love with the sun,
Whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay
Flings odorous airs afar;
Yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze
Is the scent of a prime cigar.
When all the beauties of Flora's court
Smile on the gay parterre,
What glorious color, what exquisite form,
And dainty scents are there!
They bask in the beam, and bend by the stream,
Like beautiful nymphs at play,
Holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup
To the glorious God of Day.
Oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief,
And death doth their sweetness mar;
But fragrance fine is forever thine,
My well-beloved cigar!
C.
More
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LATAKIA.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wizard-work of silver lace, I draw my sofa on the rug, Before the ancient chimney-place. Upon the painted tiles are mosques And minarets, and here and there A blind muezzin lifts ... 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 ... SHE.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty, cherished book, The odor vile, the noisome taint Of horrid, stale tobacco-smoke Yet lingers! The hateful man, my book to spoil! Patrick, the tongs--lest I should ... SIC TRANSIT.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of a year buried o'er, In a feminine hand and requesting My presence for tennis at four. Half remorseful for leaving it lying In surroundings unworthy as those, I carefully ... SMOKE AND CHESS.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he, from his meerschaum's glossy brown, With a ring of smoke made his king a crown. The cherry stem, with its amber tip, Thoughtfully rested on his lip, As the goblet's rim from wh... SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just the very one you might suppose. Love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name! A dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame! No less than true, and set aside all joke, From oldest time he e... SMOKING AWAY.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow-white plume of a maiden, The smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies With blissful fragrance laden. _Chorus._ Then smoke away till a golden ray Lights up the dawn of t... SMOKING SONG.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist from the waterfall given, Or the locks that float round beauty's throat In the whispering air of even. _Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years, And the dread of c... SMOKING SPIRITUALIZED.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently sufficient grounds, to the Rev. Ralph Erskine, or, as he designated himself, "Ralph Erskine, V.D.M." The peasantry throughout the North of England always called it "Erskine ... SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mountains, Not like mists that mask the sea, Not like vapors round the fountains,-- Soft and clear and warm are we. Hear the tempest, how its minions Tear the clouds and ... SUBLIME TOBACCO.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breathing o'er the aromatic South, Not like a "bed of violets" on the gale, But such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale, Borne from a short, frail pipe, which yet had blown Its gentle ... SWEET SMOKING PIPE.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion still of my retreat, Thou dost my gloomy thoughts remove, And purge my brain with gentle heat. Tobacco, charmer of my mind, When, like the meteor's transient gleam. Thy s... THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a stem of reed, What care I for the weather? Though winter freeze and summer broil We rest us from our days of toil My Pipe and I together! Like to a priest of sacred fane, ... THE BALLADE OF TOBACCO.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets out wild oats to sow, He puffs a stiff and stark cigar, And quaffs champagne of Mumm & Co. He likes not smoking yet; but though Tobacco makes him sick indeed, Cigars and wine... THE BETROTHED.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. We quarrelled about Havanas--we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I know she is exacti... THE CIGAR.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar. Some fret themselves to death With Whig and Tory jar; I don't care which is in, So I have my cigar. Sir John req... THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bold, Who sailed across the sea; They'd braved the storm, and stood the gale, And got to Virgin-ee. ... THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a bit before,-- And now these here three sailors bold Went cruising on the shore. A lurch to starboard, one to port, Now forrard, boys, go we, With a haul and a "Ho!" and a "... THE DREAMER'S PIPE.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the dreamer's lip, Fragrant odors from thy bowl Mingling with the dreamer's soul; Curling wreaths of smoke ascending, Comfort sweet with incense blending. Joy and peace and solace... THE DUET.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the tenor, McKey, Were singing together a blithe duet, And days it were better I should forget Came suddenly back to me,-- Days when life seemed a gay masque ball, And to love and ... THE FARMER'S PIPE.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey room; From the fading past evoke Forms that breathe of summer's bloom. Bashful Will and rosy Nell-- Ah, I watch them now at play By the mossy wayside well As I did t... THE HAPPY SMOKING-GROUND.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and pipe put by, And Smoked and Smoker both alike In dust and ashes lie, What of the Smoker? Whither passed? Ah, will he smoke no more? And will there be no golden cloud U... THE LAST PIPE.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs each unstrung limb, 'Tis sweet through smoke-puffs, wreathing slow, To watch the firelight flash or glow. As each soft cloud floats up on high, Some worry takes its wings to fly;... THE LATEST CONVERT.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Nellie, Katie, Mary-- To name them all would stretch my rhymes From here as far as Demerary. But each has wed some other man,-- Girls always do, I find, in real life,-- And... THE LOST LOTUS.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours Passed like the vision of a royal feast, By Nero given in the Baian bowers; Thanks to the lotus-blossom spell, Their lives were one long mi... THE OLD CLAY PIPE.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, I find, If you're kind of out of humor Or in trouble in your mind. When you're feeling awful lonesome And don't know just what to do, There's a heap of satisfaction If... THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the truest type, When that too devoted valet Quenched your first-recorded pipe, Were you pondering the opinion, As you watched the airy coil, That the virtue of Virginia Might...