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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

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

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

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

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

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



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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