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Smoking Poems

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...



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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