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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

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

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

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

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

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

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

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

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

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...



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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