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Smoking Poems

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...



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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