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Smoking Poems

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

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

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

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



TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest,
Belov'd and honored by the wise,
Come filled with honest "Weekly's best,"
And kindled from the lofty skies.

While round me clouds of incense roll,
With guiltless joys you charm the sense,
And nobler pleasure to the soul
In hints of moral truth dispense.

Soon as you feel th' enliv'ning ray,
To dust you hasten to return,
And teach me that my earliest day
Began to give me to the urn.

But though thy grosser substance sink
To dust, thy purer part aspires;
This when I see, I joy to think
That earth but half of me requires.

Like thee, myself am born to die,
Made half to rise, and half to fall.
Oh, could I, while my moments fly,
The bliss you give me give to all!

_Gentleman's Magazine_, July, 1745.




In the smoke of my dear cigarito
Cloud castles rise gorgeous and tall;
And Eros, divine muchachito,
With smiles hovers over it all.

But dreaming, forgetting to cherish
The fire at my lips as it dies,
The dream and the rapture must perish,
And Eros descend from the skies.

O wicked and false muchachito,
Your rapture I yet may recall;
But, like my re-lit cigarito,
A bitterness tinges it all.

CAMILLA K. VON K.





Next: A GOOD CIGAR.

Previous: TOO GREAT A SACRIFICE.



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