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Smoking Poems

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...



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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