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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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



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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