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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

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

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



SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS.








When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose
Was just the very one you might suppose.
Love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name!
A dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame!
No less than true, and set aside all joke,
From oldest time he ever dealt in smoke;
Than smoke, no other thing he sold, or made;
Smoke all the substance of his stock in trade;
His capital all smoke, smoke all his store,
'Twas nothing else; but lovers ask no more--
And thousands enter daily at his door!
Hence it was ever, and it e'er will be
The trade most suited to his faculty:
Fed by the vapors of their heart's desire,
No other food his votaries require;
For that they seek--the favor of the fair--
Is unsubstantial as the smoke and air.

JACOB CATS: _Moral Emblems_.





Next: CLOUDS.

Previous: MY THREE LOVES.



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