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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...



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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