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Smoking Poems

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

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

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

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



HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE.








Like raven's wings her locks of jet,
Her soft eyes touched with fond regret,
Doubt and desire her mind beset,
Fondling her brother's cigarette.

Roses with dewy diamonds set,
Drooped o'er the window's parapet;
With grace she turned a match to get,
And lit her brother's cigarette.

Her puffs of smoky violet
Twined in fantastic silhouette;
She blushed, laughed, coughed a little, yet,
She smoked her brother's cigarette.

Her eyes with briny tears were wet,
Her bang grew limp beneath its net,
Her brow was gemmed with beaded sweat,
And to her bed she went, you bet.

ANON.





Next: IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.

Previous: HOW IT ONCE WAS.



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