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Smoking Poems

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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

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

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

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

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

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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



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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