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Smoking Poems

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

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

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



TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.








Betty bouncer kept a stall
At the corner of a street,
And she had a smile for all.
Many were the friends she'd greet
With kindly nod on passing by,
Who, smiling, saw her pipe awry.

Poor old lass! she loved her pipe,
A constant friend it seemed to be;
As she sold her apples ripe,
With an apple on each knee,
How she'd make the smoke-wreaths fly,
As I've watched her pipe awry!

Seasons came and seasons went,
Only changing Betty's store;
Youngsters with her always spent
Their little all and wished they'd more:
Timidly with upturned eye
Staring at her pipe awry.

Bet was always at her post
Early morn or even late;
Ginger beer or chestnut roast,
Served she as she sat in state,
On two bushel-baskets high;
You should have seen her pipe awry!

Little care old Betty had,
She quietly jogged on her way;
Never did her face look sad.
Although she fumed the livelong day.
Guiltless seemed she of a sigh.
I never saw her pipe her eye!

C.F.





Next: INGIN SUMMER.

Previous: HE RESPONDETH.



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