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Smoking Poems

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

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

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

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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



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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