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Smoking Poems

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...



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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