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Smoking Poems

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...



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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