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Smoking Poems

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...



THE FARMER'S PIPE.








Make a picture, dreamy smoke,
In my still and cosey room;
From the fading past evoke
Forms that breathe of summer's bloom.

Bashful Will and rosy Nell--
Ah, I watch them now at play
By the mossy wayside well
As I did twelve years to-day.

We were younger then, my pipe:
You are dingy now and worn;
And my fruit is more than ripe,
And my fields are brown and shorn.

Nell has merry eyes of blue,
And is timid, pure, and mild;
Will is fair and brave and true,
And a neighboring farmer's child.

Little maid is busy, too,
Making rare, fictitious pies,
Just as any wife would do,
Looking, meanwhile, wondrous wise.

Drawing water from the well,
Delving sand upon the hill,
Going here and there for Nell,--
That's her helpmate, willing Will.

Yonder, in the waning light,
Hand in hand the truants come,
Nell so fearful lest the night
Should fall around her far from home.

Fading, fading, skyward flies
This joy-picture you have limned;
Pipe of mine, the quiet skies
Of my life you leave undimmed.

Nell and Will are lovers now;
There they stray in dying light.
That's a kiss! Ah, well, somehow
Nell's no more afraid at night!

GEORGE COOPER.





Next: SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.

Previous: MY PIPE.



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