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Smoking Poems

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

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

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

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

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

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

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...



SMOKING SONG.








With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl,
As mist from the waterfall given,
Or the locks that float round beauty's throat
In the whispering air of even.

_Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years,
And the dread of change before us;
The way is sweet to our willing feet,
With the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us.

As the light beams through the ringlets blue,
Will hope beam through our sorrow,
While the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe
Shuts out the fear of to-morrow.

A magic charm in the evening calm
Calls thought from mem'ry's treasure;
But clear and bright in the liquid light
Are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure.

Then who shall chide, with boasting pride,
Delights they ne'er have tasted?
Oh, let them smile while we beguile
The hour with joys they've wasted.

_College Song._





Next: HOW IT ONCE WAS.

Previous: THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.



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