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Smoking Poems

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

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

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

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

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...



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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