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Smoking Poems

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

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

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

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

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



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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