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Smoking Poems

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

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

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

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



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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