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Smoking Poems

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

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

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...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

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

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

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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



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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