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Smoking Poems

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...



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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