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Smoking Poems

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

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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



THE PIPE CRITIC.








Say, pipe, let's talk of love;
Canst aid me? By my life,
I'll ask not gods above
To help me choose a wife;
But to thy gentle self I'll give the puzzling strife.

Thy color let me find,
And blue like smoke her eyes;
A healthy store her mind
As that which in thee lies,--
An evanescent draft, whose incense mounts the skies.

And, pipe, a breath like thine;
Her hair an amber gold,
And wrought in shapes as fine
As that which now I hold;
A grace in every limb, her form thy slender mould.

And when her lips I kiss,
Oh, may she burn like thee,
And strive to give me bliss!
A comforter to be
When friends wax cold, time fades, and all departs from me.

And may she hide in smoke,
As you, my friend, have done,
The failings that would choke
My virtues every one,
Turn grief to laughing jest, or painful thought to fun.

Her aid be such as thine
To stir my brain a bit.
When 'round this hearth of mine
Friends sit and banter wit,
She'll shape a well-turned phrase, a subtle jest to hit.

In short, my sole delight
(Why, pipe, you sputter so!),
Whose angel visage bright
(And at me ashes throw!)
Shall never rival fear. You're jealous now, I know.

Nay, pipe, I'll not leave thee;
For of thy gifts there's one
That's passing dear to me
Whose equal she'd have none,--
The gift of peace serene; she'd have, alas, a tongue!

WALTER LITTLEFIELD.





Next: A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.

Previous: MY CIGARETTE.



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