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Smoking Poems

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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



MEERSCHAUM.








Come to me, O my meerschaum,
For the vile street organs play;
And the torture they're inflicting
Will vanish quite away.

I open my study window
And into the twilight peer,
And my anxious eyes are watching
For the man with my evening beer.

In one hand is the shining pewter,
All amber the ale doth glow;
In t'other are long "churchwardens,"
As spotless and pure as snow.

Ah! what would the world be to us
Tobaccoless?--Fearful bore!
We should dread the day after to-morrow
Worse than the day before.

As the elephant's trunk to the creature,
Is the pipe to the man, I trow;
Useful and meditative
As the cud to the peaceful cow.

So to the world is smoking;
Through that we feel, with bliss
That, whatever worlds come after,
A jolly old world is this.

Come to me, O my meerschaum,
And whisper to me here,
If you like me better than coffee,
Than grog, or the bitter beer.

Oh! what are our biggest winnings,
If peaceful content we miss?
Though fortune may give us an innings
She seldom conveys us bliss.

You're better than all the fortunes
That ever were made or broke;
For a penny will always fill
And buy me content with a smoke.





Next: WRONGFELLOW.

Previous: AD NICOTINA.



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