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Smoking Poems

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

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

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

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

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

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

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



MY FRIENDLY PIPE.








Let sybarites still dream delights
While smoking cigarettes,
Whose opiates get in their pates
Till waking brings regrets;
Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes,
Of troubles, and of frets.

And let the chap who loves to nap
With his cigar in hand
Pursue his way, and live his day,
As runs time's changing sand;
Let him delight by day and night
In his peculiar brand.

But as for me, I love to be
Provided with a pipe,--
A rare old bowl to warm my soul,
A meerschaum brown and ripe,--
With good plug cut, no stump or butt,
Nor filthy gutter-snipe.

My joys increase! It brings me peace
As nothing else can do;
From all the strife of daily life
Here my relief is true.
I watch its rings; it purrs and sings--
And then it's cheaper, too!

_Detroit Tribune_.





Next: ODE TO TOBACCO.

Previous: A GOOD CIGAR.



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