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Smoking Poems

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

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

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

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

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

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



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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