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Smoking Poems

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

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

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

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

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

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

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

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

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

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

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



THE LATEST CONVERT.








I've been in love some scores of times,
With Amy, Nellie, Katie, Mary--
To name them all would stretch my rhymes
From here as far as Demerary.

But each has wed some other man,--
Girls always do, I find, in real life,--
And I am left alone to scan
The horizon of my own ideal life.

I still survive. I was, I think,
Not born to run in double harness;
I did not shirk my food and drink
When Nellie married Harry Carnice.

But I am wedded to my pipe!
That faithful friend, nought can provoke it;
Should it grow cold, I gently wipe
Its mouth, then fill it, light, and smoke it.

But it is sweet to kiss; and I
Should love to kiss a wife and pet her--
She scolds? Straight to my pipe I fly;
Her scowls through fragrant smoke look better.

There's merry Maud--with her I'd dare
To brave the matrimonial ocean;
_She_ would not pout or fret, but wear
A constant smile of sweet devotion.

How know I that she will not change,
My wishes at defiance set? Oh!
(Pray this in smallest type arrange)
She smokes--at times--a cigareto.

F.W. LITTLETON HAY.





Next: CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER.

Previous: PIPE AND TOBACCO.



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