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Smoking Poems

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

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

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



THE BALLADE OF TOBACCO.








When verdant youth sees life afar,
And first sets out wild oats to sow,
He puffs a stiff and stark cigar,
And quaffs champagne of Mumm & Co.
He likes not smoking yet; but though
Tobacco makes him sick indeed,
Cigars and wine he can't forego,--
A slave is each man to the weed.

In time his tastes more dainty are
And delicate. Become a beau,
From out the country of the czar
He brings his cigarettes, and lo!
He sips the vintage of Bordeaux.
Thus keener relish shall succeed
The baser liking we outgrow,--
A slave is each man to the weed

When age and his own lucky star
To him perfected wisdom show,
The schooner glides across the bar,
And beer for him shall freely flow;
A pipe with genial warmth shall glow,
To which he turns in direst need,
To seek in smoke surcease of woe,--
A slave is each man to the weed.





Next: ENVOI.

Previous: MY CIGARETTE.



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