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Smoking Poems

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

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

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...



THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.








Oh, give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze and summer broil
We rest us from our days of toil
My Pipe and I together!

Like to a priest of sacred fane,
I nightly light the glow again
With reverence and pleasure;
For through this plain and modest bowl
I coax sweet mem'ry to my soul
And many trippings measure!

There's comfort in each puff of smoke,
Defiance to ill-fortune's stroke
And happiness forever!
There grows a volume full of thought
And humor, than the book you bought
Holds nothing half so clever!

The summer fragrance, all pent up
Among the leaves, is here sent up
In dreams of summer glory;
And these blue clouds that slowly rise
Were colored by the summer skies,
And tell a summer story.

And oh! the happiest, sweetest times
Come ringing all their silver chimes
Of merry songs and laughter;
And all that may be well and worth
For Mother Future to bring forth
I do imagine after.

What care I if my poor means
Clad not my walls with splendid scenes
And pictures by the masters;
Here in the curling smoke-wreath glow
Bold hills and lovely vales below,
And brooks with nodding asters.

All that on earth is fair and fine,
This fragrant magic makes it mine,
And gives me sole dominion;
And if you call me fanciful,
I only take a stronger pull,
And laugh at your opinion.

Let others fret and fume with care,
'Tis easy finding everywhere,
But happiness is rarer;
And if I find it sweet and ripe,
In this tobacco and my pipe,
I'll count it all the fairer.

Then give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze, or summer broil
We rest us from the days of toil,
My Pipe and I together.

HERMANN RAVE.





Next: THE OLD CLAY PIPE.

Previous: "KEATS TOOK SNUFF."



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