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 hi... Read more of Little Brown Baby at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational.ca
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Smoking Poems

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

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

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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



IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.








I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to do,
When I think about them days we used to spend
A hoein' out tobacker in th' clearin'--me an' you--
An' a wishin' that the day was at an end.
For the dewdrops was a sparklin' on the beeches' tender leaves
As we started out a workin' in the morn;
An' th' noonday sun was sendin' down a shower of burnin' sheaves
When we heard the welcome-soundin' dinner-horn.
An' th' shadders round us gathered in a sort of ghostly batch,
'Fore we started home from workin' in that ol' tobacker patch.

I'm a feelin' mighty lonesome, as I look aroun' to-day,
For I see th' change that's taken place since then.
All th' hills is brown and faded, for th' woods is cleared away;
You an' me has changed from ragged boys to men;
You are livin' in th' city that we ust to dream about;
I am still a dwellin' here upon the place,
But my form is bent an' feeble, which was once so straight and
stout,
An' there's most a thousand wrinkles on my face.
You have made a mint of money; I, perhaps have been your match,
But we both enjoyed life better in that ol' tobacker patch.

S.Q. LAPIUS.





Next: MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.
Previous: HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE.


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