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Smoking Poems

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

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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



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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