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Smoking Poems

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

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

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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

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

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...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...



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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