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Smoking Poems

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

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

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