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Smoking Poems

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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



SUBLIME TOBACCO.








But here the herald of the self-same mouth
Came breathing o'er the aromatic South,
Not like a "bed of violets" on the gale,
But such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale,
Borne from a short, frail pipe, which yet had blown
Its gentle odors over either zone,
And, puff'd where'er minds rise or waters roll,
Had wafted smoke from Portsmouth to the Pole,
Opposed its vapor as the lightning flash'd,
And reek'd, 'midst mountain billows unabashed,
To AEolus a constant sacrifice,
Through every change of all the varying skies.
And what was he who bore it? I may err,
But deem him sailor or philosopher.
Sublime tobacco! which from east to west
Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest;
Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides
His hours, and rivals opiums and his brides;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping on the Strand;
Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe,
When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;
Like other charmers, wooing the caress
More dazzlingly when daring in full dress;
Yet thy true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties,--give me a cigar!

LORD BYRON:

_The Island, Canto ii., Stanza 19._





Next: SMOKING AWAY.

Previous: THE DREAMER'S PIPE.



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