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Smoking Poems

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

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

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

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

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...



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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