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Smoking Poems

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

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

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

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

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

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

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

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



TOBACCO.








Let poets rhyme of what they will,
Youth, Beauty, Love, or Glory, still
My theme shall be Tobacco!
Hail, weed, eclipsing every flow'r,
Of thee I fain would make my bow'r,
When fortune frowns, or tempests low'r,
Mild comforter of woe!

They say in truth an angel's foot
First brought to life thy precious root,
The source of every pleasure!
Descending from the skies he press'd
With hallowed touch Earth's yielding breast;
Forth sprang the plant, and then was bless'd,
As man's chief treasure!

Throughout the world who knows thee not?
Of palace and of lowly cot
The universal guest,--
The friend of Gentile, Turk, and Jew,
To all a stay, to none untrue,
The balm that can our ills subdue,
And soothe us into rest!

With thee the poor man can abide
Oppression, want, the scorn of pride,
The curse of penury.
Companion of his lonely state,
He is no longer desolate,
And still can brave an adverse fate
With honest worth and thee!

All honor to the patriot bold
Who brought, instead of promised gold,
Thy leaf to Britain's shore.
It cost him life; but thou shalt raise
A cloud of fragrance to his praise,
And bards shall hail in deathless lays
The valiant knight of yore.

Ay, Raleigh! thou wilt live till Time
Shall ring his last oblivious chime,
The fruitful theme of story;
And man in ages hence shall tell
How greatness, virtue, wisdom, fell,
When England sounded out thy knell,
And dimmed her ancient glory.

And thou, O plant! shalt keep his name
Unwithered in the scroll of fame,
And teach us to remember;
He gave with thee content and peace,
Bestow'd on life a longer lease,
And bidding every trouble cease,
Made summer of December.

THOMAS JONES.





Next: THE CIGAR.

Previous: TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED.



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