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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

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

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...



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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