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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...



ANOTHER MATCH.








_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._


If love were dhudeen olden,
And I were like the weed,
Oh! we would live together
And love the jolly weather,
And bask in sunshine golden,
Rare pals of choicest breed;
If love were dhudeen olden,
And I were like the weed.

If you were oil essential,
And I were nicotine,
We'd hatch up wicked treason,
And spoil each smoker's reason,
Till he grew penitential,
And turned a bilious green;
If you were oil essential,
And I were nicotine.

If you were snuff, my darling,
And I, your love, the box.
We'd live and sneeze together,
Shut out from all the weather,
And anti-snuffers snarling,
In neckties orthodox;
If you were snuff, my darling,
And I, your love, the box.

If you were the aroma,
And I were simply smoke,
We'd skyward fly together,
As light as any feather;
And flying high as Homer,
His gray old ghost we'd choke;
If you were the aroma,
And I were simply smoke.

From _Cope's Tobacco Plant_.





Next: IN WREATHS OF SMOKE.

Previous: ACROSTIC.



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