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Smoking Poems

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

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

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

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

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

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

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



MY THREE LOVES.








When Life was all a summer day,
And I was under twenty,
Three loves were scattered in my way--
And three at once are plenty.
Three hearts, if offered with a grace,
One thinks not of refusing;
The task in this especial case
Was only that of choosing.
I knew not which to make my pet,--
My pipe, cigar, or cigarette.

To cheer my night or glad my day
My pipe was ever willing;
The meerschaum or the lowly clay
Alike repaid the filling.
Grown men delight in blowing clouds,
As boys in blowing bubbles,
Our cares to puff away in crowds
And vanish all our troubles.
My pipe I nearly made my pet,
Above cigar or cigarette.

A tiny paper, tightly rolled
About some Latakia,
Contains within its magic fold
A mighty _panacea_.
Some thought of sorrow or of strife
At ev'ry whiff will vanish;
And all the scenery of life
Turn picturesquely Spanish.
But still I could not quite forget
Cigar and pipe for cigarette.

To yield an after-dinner puff
O'er _demi-tasse_ and brandy,
No cigarettes are strong enough,
No pipes are ever handy.
However fine may be the feed,
It only moves my laughter
Unless a dry delicious weed
Appears a little after.
A prime cigar I firmly set
Above a pipe or cigarette.

But after all I try in vain
To fetter my opinion;
Since each upon my giddy brain
Has boasted a dominion.
Comparisons I'll not provoke,
Lest _all_ should be offended.
Let this discussion end in smoke
As many more have ended.
And each I'll make a special pet;
My pipe, cigar, and cigarette.

HENRY S. LEIGH.





Next: SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS.

Previous: CHOOSING A WIFE BY A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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