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Smoking Poems

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

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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 ...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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

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



A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale,
Or with alcohol moisten his thrapple,
Only give me, I pray, a good pipe of soft clay,
Nicely tapered and thin in the stapple;
And I shall puff, puff, let who will say, "Enough!"
No luxury else I'm in lack o',
No malice I hoard 'gainst queen, prince, duke, or lord,
While I pull at my pipe of tobacco.

When I feel the hot strife of the battle of life,
And the prospect is aught but enticin',
Mayhap some real ill, like a protested bill,
Dims the sunshine that tinged the horizon:
Only let me puff, puff,--be they ever so rough,
All the sorrows of life I lose track o',
The mists disappear, and the vista is clear,
With a soothing mild pipe of tobacco.

And when joy after pain, like the sun after rain,
Stills the waters, long turbid and troubled,
That life's current may flow with a ruddier glow,
And the sense of enjoyment be doubled,--
Oh! let me puff, puff, till I feel _quantum suff._,
Such luxury still I'm in lack o';
Be joy ever so sweet, it would be incomplete,
Without a good pipe of tobacco.

Should my recreant muse--sometimes apt to refuse
The guidance of bit and of bridle--
Still blankly demur, spite of whip and spur,
Unimpassioned, inconstant, or idle;
Only let me puff, puff, till the brain cries, "Enough!"
Such excitement is all I'm in lack o',
And the poetic vein soon to fancy gives rein,
Inspired by a pipe of tobacco.

And when, with one accord, round the jovial board,
In friendship our bosoms are glowing,
While with toast and with song we the evening prolong,
And with nectar the goblets are flowing;
Still let us puff, puff,--be life smooth, be it rough,
Such enjoyment we're ever in lack o';
The more peace and good-will will abound as we fill
A jolly good pipe of tobacco.

JOHN USHER.





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