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Smoking Poems

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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



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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