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Smoking Poems

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...



THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF.








There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well,
There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell;
But any pipe that kin be bought fer marbles, chalk, or pelf,
Ain't ekal to the flaver of th' pipe you make yourself.

Jest take a common corn cob an' whittle out the middle,
Then plug up one end of it as tight as any fiddle;
Fit a stem into th' side an' lay her on th' shelf,
An' when she's dry you take her down, that pipe you made yourself.

Cram her full clar to th' brim with nachral leaf, you bet--
'T will smoke a trifle better for bein' somewhat wet--
Take your worms and fishin' pole, and a jug along for health,
An' you'll get a taste o' heaven from that pipe you made yourself.

There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well,
There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell;
But any pipe that kin be bought for marbles, chalk, or pelf,
Ain't ekal to th' flayer of the pipe you make yourself.

HENRY E. BROWN.





Next: CHIBOUQUE.

Previous: IF I WERE KING.



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