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Smoking Poems

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

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



A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE.








A pretty, piquant, pouting pet,
Who likes to muse and take her ease,
She loves to smoke a cigarette;

To dream in silken hammockette,
And sing and swing beneath the trees,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

Her Christian name is Violet;
Her eyes are blue as summer skies;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

As calm as babe in bassinette,
She swingeth in the summer breeze,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

She ponders o'er a novelette;
Her parasol is Japanese;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

She loves a fume without a fret;
Her frills are white, her frock _cerise_,--
A pretty, pouting, piquant pet.

She almost goes to sleep, and yet,
Half-lulled by booming honey-bees,
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

A winsome, clever, cool coquette,
Who flouts all Grundian decrees,--
pretty, pouting, piquant pet,
That loves to smoke a cigarette.

_Harper's Bazaar_.





Next: IT MAY BE WEEDS.

Previous: A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE.



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