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Smoking Poems

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

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

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

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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



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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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