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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

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

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

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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



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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