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Smoking Poems

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...



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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