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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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



SEASONABLE SWEETS.








"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS.


When the year is young, what sweets are flung
By the violets, hiding, dim,
And the lilac that sways her censers high,
Whilst the skylark chants a hymn!
How sweet is the scent of the daffodil bloom,
When blithe spring decks each spray,
And the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume
Through the beautiful month of May!
What a dainty pet is the mignonette,
Whose sweets wide scattered are!
But sweeter to me than all these yet
Is the scent of a prime cigar!

Delicious airs waft the fields of June,
When the beans are all in flower;
The woodruff is fragrant in the hedge,
And the woodbine in the bower.
Sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine
For the blithe hours as they run,
And balmily sighs the meadow-sweet,
That is all in love with the sun,
Whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay
Flings odorous airs afar;
Yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze
Is the scent of a prime cigar.

When all the beauties of Flora's court
Smile on the gay parterre,
What glorious color, what exquisite form,
And dainty scents are there!
They bask in the beam, and bend by the stream,
Like beautiful nymphs at play,
Holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup
To the glorious God of Day.
Oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief,
And death doth their sweetness mar;
But fragrance fine is forever thine,
My well-beloved cigar!

C.





Next: GEORDIE TO HIS TOBACCO-PIPE.

Previous: IT MAY BE WEEDS.



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