THOSE ASHES.
Up to the frescoed ceiling
The smoke of my cigarette
In a sinuous spray is reeling,
Forming flower and minaret.
What delicious landscape floating
On perfumed wings I see;
Pale swans I am idly noting,
And queens robed in filagree.
I see such delicious faces
As ne'er man saw before,
And my fancy fondly chases
Sweet maids on a fairy shore.
Now to bits my air-castle crashes,
And those pictures I see no more;
My grandmother yells: "Them ashes--
Don't drop them on the floor!"
R.K. MUNKITTRICK.
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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... THE PIPE CRITIC.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me? By my life, I'll ask not gods above To help me choose a wife; But to thy gentle self I'll give the puzzling strife. Thy color let me find, And blue like ... THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well, There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell; But any pipe that kin be bought fer marbles, chalk, or pelf, Ain't ekal to the flaver of th' pipe you make yours... THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Something sweeter than jasmine scent, Sweeter than rose and violet blent, More potent in power than orange or musk? The scent of a good cigar. I am all alone in my quiet room, And t... THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish girl,-- Mantilla, fan, coquettish curl, Languid airs and dimpled face, Calculating, fatal grace; Hear a twittering serenade Under lofty balcony played; Queen at b... THE SMOKER'S CALENDAR.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit cheers; And still it glads the length'ning day 'Neath February's milder sway. When March's keener winds succeed, What charms me like the burning weed When April mounts the sola... THE SMOKER'S REVERIE.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beechen tree, With its leaves by the autumn made ripe; While they cling to the stems like old age unto life, I dream of the days when I'll rest from this strife, And in peace smoke my... THE TRUE LEUCOTHOE.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, and beauty's smile; I choose a theme not less divine,-- The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle. The old Greeks err'd who bound with bays Apollo's brow; the verdant crown He w... THOSE ASHES.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette In a sinuous spray is reeling, Forming flower and minaret. What delicious landscape floating On perfumed wings I see; Pale swans I am idly noting, And queens robed ... TITLEPAGE DEDICATION.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those who always smoked--now smoke the more." ... TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and honored by the wise, Come filled with honest "Weekly's best," And kindled from the lofty skies. While round me clouds of incense roll, With guiltless joys you charm the sens... TO AN OLD PIPE.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a case; 'Twas a jolly cosy place, I surmise; And a zealous subject blew On your cheeks, until they grew To the fascinating hue Of her eyes. Near a r... 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 st... TO MY CIGAR.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doctor's spite; Thy clouds all other clouds dispel, And lap me in delight. What though they tell, with phizzes long, My years are sooner past! I would reply with reason stro... TO MY CIGAR.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes happy thoughts flow, And drives sorrow afar. The stronger the wind blows, The brighter thou burnest! The dreariest of life's woes, Less gloomy thou turnest! As I fe... TO MY MEERSCHAUM.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the quivering light of a star, In the flash of a silvery rill, Yet to me thou art lovelier far, My Meerschaum! There's a love in her witching dark eye, There's a love ... TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street, And she had a smile for all. Many were the friends she'd greet With kindly nod on passing by, Who, smiling, saw her pipe awry. Poor old lass! she loved her pipe, A c... TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face, That you are in fashion all over the land, And I am so much fallen into disgrace. "Do but see what a pretty contemplative air ... TO THE TOBACCO PIPE.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth life's rugged way, To give a happiness unknown To those--who let a pipe alone; Thy tube can best the vapors chase, By raising--others in their place; Can give the face staid Wis... TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut down at eve; It shows decay; we are but clay; Think of this when you smoke tobacco. The pipe that is so lily white, Wherein so many take delight, Is broke with a touch,--man... TOBACCO.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut down at night, Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay, Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. The pipe that is so lily-white, Shows thee to be a mortal wight; And even such, gone with a ... TOBACCO.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love, or Glory, still My theme shall be Tobacco! Hail, weed, eclipsing every flow'r, Of thee I fain would make my bow'r, When fortune frowns, or tempests low'r, Mild co... TOO GREAT A SACRIFICE.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear, To test Lothario's passion, simply said, "Forego the weed before we go to wed. For smoke, take flame; I'll be that flame's bright fanner. To have your ... TWO OTHER HEARTS.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manly face, As he pressed her to his bosom in a fervent, fond embrace. No cost of others' happiness found place within his thought; The weakness of life's brittle thread no dim forebodi...