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Smoking Poems

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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, 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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