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Smoking Poems

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

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



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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