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Smoking Poems

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

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

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

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

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...



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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