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Smoking Poems

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

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

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

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...



THE LOST LOTUS.








'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East,
There dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours
Passed like the vision of a royal feast,
By Nero given in the Baian bowers;
Thanks to the lotus-blossom spell,
Their lives were one long miracle.

In after years the passing sons of men
Looked for those lotus blossoms all in vain,
Through every hillside, glade, and glen
And e'en the isles of many a main;
Yet through the centuries some doom,
Forbade them see the lotus bloom.

The Old World wearied of the long pursuit,
And called the sacred leaf a poet's theme,
When lo! the New World, rich in flower and fruit,
Revealed the lotus, lovelier than the dream
That races of the long past days did haunt,--
The green-leaved, amber-tipped tobacco plant.

ANON.





Next: THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR.

Previous: EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER.



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