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Smoking Poems

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

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

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

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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



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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