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Smoking Poems

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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



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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