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Smoking Poems

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

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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

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

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

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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


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.



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