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Smoking Poems

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

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

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

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

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

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...



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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