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Smoking Poems

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

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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



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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