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Smoking Poems

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...



A WARNING.








HE.

I loathe all books. I hate to see
The world and men through others' eyes;
My own are good enough for me.
These scribbling fellows I despise;
They bore me.
I used to try to read a bit,
But, when I did, a sleepy fit
Came o'er me.

Yet here I sit with pensive look,
Filling my pipe with fragrant loads,
Gazing in rapture at a book!--
A free translation of the Odes
Of Horace.
'Tis owned by sweet Elizabeth,
And breathes a subtle, fragrant breath
Of orris.

I longed for something that was hers
To cheer me when I'm feeling low;
I saw this book of paltry verse,
And asked to take it home--and so
She lent it.
I love her deep and tenderly,
Yet dare not tell my love, lest she
Resent it.

I'll learn to quote a stanza here,
A couplet there. I'm very sure
'Twould aid my suit could I appear
_Au fait_ in books and literature.
I'll do it!
This jingle I can quickly learn;
Then, hid in roses, I'll return
Her poet!





Next: SHE.

Previous: MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.



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