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Smoking Poems

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

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

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

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

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...



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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