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Smoking Poems

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

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

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...



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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