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Smoking Poems

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

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

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



TO AN OLD PIPE.








Once your smoothly polished face
Nestled lightly in a case;
'Twas a jolly cosy place,
I surmise;

And a zealous subject blew
On your cheeks, until they grew
To the fascinating hue
Of her eyes.

Near a rusty-hilted sword,
Now upon my mantel-board,
Where my curios are stored,
You recline.

You were pleasant company when
By the scribbling of her pen
I was sent the ways of men
To repine.

Tell me truly (you were there
When she ceased that debonair
Correspondence and affair)
I suppose

That she laughed and smiled all day;
Or did gentle tear-drops stray
Down her charming _retroussee_
Little nose?

Where the sunbeams, coyly still,
Fall upon the mantel-sill,
You perpetually will
Silence woo;

And I fear that she herself,
By the little chubby elf.
Will be laid upon the shelf
Just as you.

DE WITT STERRY.





Next: TITLEPAGE DEDICATION.

Previous: THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT.



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