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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...



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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