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Smoking Poems

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

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

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

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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



CANNON SONG.








And it has turned since you and I
Set out to face the world alone;
And, in a garret near the sky,
Had scarce a crust to call our own,
But many a banquet, Barmecide;
And many a dream of hope divine,
Lie buried in the moaning tide,
That drowns the past, old pipe of mine!

But prosing isn't quite the thing,
And so, I guess, I'll give it up:
Just wait a moment while I sing;
We'll have another parting cup,
And then to bed. The stars are low;
Yon sickly moon has ceased to shine;
So here she goes, and off we go
To Slumberland, old pipe of mine!

JOHN J. GORMLEY.





Next: CANNON SONG.

Previous: OLD PIPE OF MINE.



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