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Smoking Poems

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

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

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...



TOBACCO.








The Indian weed, withered quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily-white,
Shows thee to be a mortal wight;
And even such, gone with a touch,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Thinke thou beholdst the vanity
Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soule defil'd with sin,
And then the fire it doth require.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind,
May serve to put thee still in mind,
That unto dust return thou must.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

GEORGE WITHER, 1620.





Next: VIRGINIA'S KINGLY PLANT.

Previous: CANNON SONG.



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