Many years ago, the few readers of radical Abolitionist papers must often have seen the singular name of Sojourner Truth, announced as a frequent speaker at Anti-Slavery meetings, and as travelling on a sort of self-appointed ag... Read more of SOJOURNER TRUTH, THE LIBYAN SIBYL at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...



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,
Wants the dark-brown bloom
And the sweet perfume
That go with a good cigar.

To lazily float
In a painted boat
On a shimmering morning sea,
Or to flirt with a maid
In the afternoon shade
Seems good enough sport to be;
But the evening hour,
With its subtle power,
Is sweeter and better far,
If joined to the joy,
Devoid of alloy,
That lurks in a good cigar.

When a blanket wet
Is solidly set
O'er hopes prematurely grown;
When ambition is tame,
And energy lame,
And the bloom from the fruit is blown;
When to dance and to dine
With women and wine
Past poverty pleasures are,--
A man's not bereft
Of all peace, if there's left
The joy of a good cigar.

NORRIS BULL.




A glass is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

JOHN O'KEEFE: _Sprigs of Laurel_, Act ii. sc. i.





Next: MY FRIENDLY PIPE.

Previous: TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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