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Smoking Poems

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

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

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

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...



THE CIGAR.








Some sigh for this and that,
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.

Some fret themselves to death
With Whig and Tory jar;
I don't care which is in,
So I have my cigar.

Sir John requests my vote,
And so does Mr. Marr;
I don't care how it goes,
So I have my cigar.

Some want a German row,
Some wish a Russian war;
I care not. I'm at peace
So I have my cigar.

I never see the "Post,"
I seldom read the "Star;"
The "Globe" I scarcely heed,
So I have my cigar.

Honors have come to men
My juniors at the Bar;
No matter--I can wait,
So I have my cigar.

Ambition frets me not;
A cab or glory's car
Are just the same to me,
So I have my cigar.

I worship no vain gods,
But serve the household Lar;
I'm sure to be at home,
So I have my cigar.

I do not seek for fame,
A general with a scar;
A private let me be,
So I have my cigar.

To have my choice among
The toys of life's bazaar,
The deuce may take them all
So I have my cigar.

Some minds are often tost
By tempests like a tar;
I always seem in port,
So I have my cigar.

The ardent flame of love,
My bosom cannot char,
I smoke but do not burn,
So I have my cigar.

They tell me Nancy Low
Has married Mr. R.;
The jilt! but I can live,
So I have my cigar.

THOMAS HOOD.





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Previous: TOBACCO.



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