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Smoking Poems

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

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

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

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

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

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



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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