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Smoking Poems

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

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

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...



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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