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Smoking Poems

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

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

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

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

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...



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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