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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

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

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...



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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