I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks, Calling out, "Beeay-ko!" (that's the sound he makes)-- Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes, Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes; Currant-buns and brand... Read more of THE BAKER at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...



MY CIGARETTE.








_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_.


To my sweet cigarette I am singing
This joyous and bright bacca-role;
Just now to my lips she was clinging,
Her spirit was soothing my soul.
With figure so slender and dapper
I feel the soft touch of it yet,
Adorned in her dainty white wrapper,
How fair is my own cigarette!
'Twere better, perhaps, that we part, love;
'Twere better, if never we'd met.
Alas, you are part of my heart, love,
Destructive but sweet cigarette!

Though matchless, by matches she's fired,
And glows both with pleasure and pride;
By her soft, balmy breath I'm inspired,
And kiss and caress my new bride.
E'en the clouds of her nature are joyous,
Though other clouds cause us regret;
From worry and care they decoy us,
The clouds of a sweet cigarette.
'Twere better, etc.

The houris in paradise living
Dissolve in the first love embrace,
Their life to their love freely giving,--
And so with my love 'tis the case;
For when her life's last spark is flying,
Still sweet to the end is my pet,
Who helps me, although she is dying,
To light up a fresh cigarette!
'Twere better, etc.





Next: THE BALLADE OF TOBACCO.

Previous: IN FAVOR OF TOBACCO.



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