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Smoking Poems

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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 ...

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

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

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

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

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

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

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



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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