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Smoking Poems

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

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

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

'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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