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Smoking Poems

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

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