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Smoking Poems

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

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

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

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...



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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