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Smoking Poems

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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



A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Let the learned talk of books,
The glutton of cooks,
The lover of Celia's soft smack--O!
No mortal can boast
So noble a toast
As a pipe of accepted tobacco.

Let the soldier for fame,
And a general's name,
In battle get many a thwack--O!
Let who will have most,
Who will rule the rooste,
Give me but a pipe of tobacco.

Tobacco gives wit
To the dullest old cit,
And makes him of politics crack--O!
The lawyers i' the hall
Were not able to bawl,
Were it not for a whiff of tobacco.

The man whose chief glory
Is telling a story,
Had never arrived at the smack--O!
Between ever heying,
And as I was saying,
Did he not take a whiff of tobacco.

The doctor who places
Much skill in grimaces,
And feels your pulse running tic-tack--O!
Would you know his chief skill?
It is only to fill
And smoke a good pipe of tobacco.

The courtiers alone
To this weed are not prone;
Would you know what 'tis makes them so slack--O?
'Twas because it inclined
To be honest the mind,
And therefore they banished tobacco.





Next: HENRY FIELDING.

Previous: AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.



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