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Smoking Poems

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

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

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



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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