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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...



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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