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Smoking Poems

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...



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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