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Smoking Poems

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

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

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

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

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

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



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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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