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Smoking Poems

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...



AD NICOTINA.








"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._"


Let others sing the praise of wine;
I'll tolerate no queen
But one fair nymph of spotless line,
The gentle Nicotine.
Her breath's as sweet as any flower's,
No matter where it blows,
And makes this dull old world of ours
The color of the rose.

There's not a pang but she can soothe,
Nor spell but she can break,
And e'en the hardest lot can smooth,
And bid us courage take.
Fair Nicotine! thou dost atone
For many an aching heart;
And I for one will gladly own
The magic of thine art.

Ah, "friendly traitress," "loving foe,"
Forgive this loving lay;
For I, thy worshipper, would show
The sweetness of thy sway.
"Sublime tobacco!" may thy reign
Ne'er for one moment cease;
For thou, Great Plant, art kin to brain,
And synonym for peace.

E.H.S.





Next: MEERSCHAUM.

Previous: A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.



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