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Smoking Poems

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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

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

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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



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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