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Smoking Poems

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

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

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

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

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

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

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



THE SMOKER'S CALENDAR.








When January's cold appears,
A glowing pipe my spirit cheers;
And still it glads the length'ning day
'Neath February's milder sway.
When March's keener winds succeed,
What charms me like the burning weed
When April mounts the solar car,
I join him, puffing a cigar;
And May, so beautiful and bright,
Still finds the pleasing weed a-light.
To balmy zephyrs it gives zest
When June in gayest livery's drest.
Through July, Flora's offspring smile,
But still Nicotia's can beguile;
And August, when its fruits are ripe,
Matures my pleasure in a pipe.
September finds me in the garden,
Communing with a long churchwarden.
Even in the wane of dull October
I smoke my pipe and sip my "robar."
November's soaking show'rs require
The smoking pipe and blazing fire.
The darkest day in drear December's--
That's lighted by their glowing embers.

ANON.





Next: AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.

Previous: CONFESSION OF A CIGAR SMOKER.



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