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Smoking Poems

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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

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



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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