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Smoking Poems

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

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

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

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

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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



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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