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Smoking Poems

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

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

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...



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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