Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes, Come to yo' pappy an' set on his knee. What you been doin', suh--makin' san' pies? Look at dat bib--You's ez du'ty ez me. Look at dat mouf--dat's merlasses, I bet; Come hyeah, Maria, an' wipe off... Read more of Little Brown Baby at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

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

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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...

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

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...



IN FAVOR OF TOBACCO.








Much victuals serves for gluttony
To fatten men like swine;
But he's a frugal man indeed
That with a leaf can dine,
And needs no napkin for his hands,
His fingers' ends to wipe,
But keeps his kitchen in a box,
And roast meat in a pipe.

SAMUEL ROWLANDS: _Knave of Clubs_ (1611).





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Previous: CLOUDS.



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