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Smoking Poems

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

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

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

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

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



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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