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Smoking Poems

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

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

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

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

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

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

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



THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT.








Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh,
Briton of the truest type,
When that too devoted valet
Quenched your first-recorded pipe,
Were you pondering the opinion,
As you watched the airy coil,
That the virtue of Virginia
Might be bred in British soil?

You transplanted the potato,
'Twas a more enduring gift
Than the wisdom of a Plato
To our poverty and thrift.
That respected root has flourished
Nobly for a nation's need,
But our brightest dreams are nourished
Ever on a foreign weed.

From the deepest meditation
Of the philosophic scribe,
From the poet's inspiration,
For the cynic's polished gibe,
We invoke narcotic nurses
In their jargon from afar,
I indite these modest verses
On a polyglot cigar.

Leaf that lulls a Turkish Aga
May a scholar's soul renew,
Fancy spring from Larranaga,
History from honey-dew.
When the teacher and the tyro
Spirit-manna fondly seek,
'Tis the cigarette from Cairo,
Or a compound from the Greek.

But no British-born aroma
Is fit incense to the Queen,
Nature gives her best diploma
To the alien nicotine.
We are doomed to her ill-favor,
For the plant that's native grown
Has a patriotic flavor
Too exclusively our own.

O my country, could your smoker
Boast your "shag," or even "twist,"
Every man were mediocre
Save the blest tobacconist!
He will point immortal morals,
Make all common praises mute,
Who shall win our grateful laurels
With a national cheroot.

_The St. James Gazette_.





Next: TO AN OLD PIPE.

Previous: TO THE TOBACCO PIPE.



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