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Smoking Poems

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

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

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...

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



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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