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Smoking Poems

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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?...

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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



THE TRUE LEUCOTHOE.








Let others praise the god of wine,
Or Venus, love, and beauty's smile;
I choose a theme not less divine,--
The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle.

The old Greeks err'd who bound with bays
Apollo's brow; the verdant crown
He wore, when measuring their days,
Grew in the West, where he went down.

An idle tale they also told;
They said he gave them frankincense,
Borne by some tree he loved of old;
If so, he gave a mere pretence.

For the true offspring of his love--
Tobacco--grew far o'er the sea,
Where Leucothoe from above
Led him as honey leads the bee,

Till on that plant he paus'd to gaze
Some moments ere he held his way,
And cheer her with his warmest rays,
Heedless of time or length of day.

Then with a sigh his brows he wreath'd
With leaves that care and toil beguile,
And bless'd, as their perfume he breath'd,
The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle.

ANON.





Next: THOSE ASHES.

Previous: A LOSS.



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