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Smoking Poems

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...



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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