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Smoking Poems

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...



INGIN SUMMER.








Jest about the time when Fall
Gits to rattlin' in the trees,
An' the man thet knows it all,
'Spicions frost in every breeze,
When a person tells hisse'f
Thet the leaves look mighty thin,
Then thar blows a meller breaf!
Ingin summer's hyere agin.

Kind-uh smoky-lookin' blues
Spins acrost the mountain-side,
An' the heavy mornin' dews
Greens the grass up far an' wide,
Natur' raly 'pears as ef
She wuz layin' off a day,--
Sort-uh drorin in her breaf
'Fore she freezes up to stay.

Nary lick o' work I strike,
'Long about this time of year!
I'm a sort-uh slowly like,
Right when Ingin summer's here.
Wife and boys kin do the work;
But a man with natchel wit,
Like I got, kin 'ford to shirk,
Ef he has a turn for it.

Time when grapes set in to ripe,
All I ast off any man
Is a common co'n-cob pipe
With terbacker to my han';
Then jest loose me whar the air
Simmers 'crost me, wahm an' free!
Promised lands ull find me thar;
Wings ull fahly sprout on me!

I'm a loungin' 'round on thrones,
Bossin' worlds f'om shore to shore,
When I stretch my marrer-bones
Jest outside the cabin door!
An' the sunshine peepin' down
On my old head, bald an' gray,
'Pears right like the gilted crown,
I expect to w'ar some day.

EVA WILDER MCGLASSON.





Next: EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER.

Previous: TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.



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