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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...



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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