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Smoking Poems

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

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



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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