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Smoking Poems

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

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

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...



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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