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Smoking Poems

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...



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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