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Smoking Poems

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

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

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...



TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.








Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand
What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face,
That you are in fashion all over the land,
And I am so much fallen into disgrace.

"Do but see what a pretty contemplative air
I give to the company,--pray do but note 'em,--
You would think that the wise men of Greece were all there,
Or, at least, would suppose them the wise men of Gotham.

"My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses,
While you are a nuisance where'er you appear;
There is nothing but snivelling and blowing of noses,
Such a noise as turns any man's stomach to hear."

Then, lifting his lid in a delicate way,
And opening his mouth with a smile quite engaging.
The Box in reply was heard plainly to say,
"What a silly dispute is this we are Waging!

"If you have a little of merit to claim,
You may thank the sweet-smelling Virginian weed;
And I, if I seem to deserve any blame,
The before-mentioned drug in apology plead.

"Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own,
No room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus;
We are vehicles, not of tobacco alone,
But of anything else they may choose to put in us."

WM. COWPER.





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