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Smoking Poems

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

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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



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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