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Smoking Poems

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...



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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