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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

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

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

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

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



MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.








I beg you come to-night and dine.
A welcome waits you, and sound wine,--
The Roederer chilly to a charm,
As Juno's breath the claret warm,
The sherry of an ancient brand.
No Persian pomp, you understand,--
A soup, a fish, two meats, and then
A salad fit for aldermen
(When aldermen, alas the days!
Were really worth their _mayonnaise_);
A dish of grapes whose clusters won
Their bronze in Carolinian sun;
Next, cheese--for you the Neufchatel,
A bit of Cheshire likes me well;
Cafe au lait or coffee black,
With Kirsch or Kuemmel or cognac
(The German band in Irving Place
By this time purple in the face);
Cigars and pipes. These being through,
Friends shall drop in, a very few--
Shakespeare and Milton, and no more.
When these are guests I bolt the door,
With "Not at home" to any one
Excepting Alfred Tennyson.

ANON.





Next: TO MY MEERSCHAUM.

Previous: IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.



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