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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...



TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED.








Tobacco's but an Indian weed,
Grows green at morn, cut down at eve;
It shows decay; we are but clay;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily white,
Wherein so many take delight,
Is broke with a touch,--man's life is such;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The pipe that is so foul within
Shows how man's soul is stained with sin,
And then the fire it doth require;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind
Do serve to put us all in mind
That unto dust return we must;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The smoke that does so high ascend
Shews us man's life must have an end;
The vapor's gone,--man's life is done;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

From "_Pills to Purge Melancholy_."





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Previous: SMOKING SPIRITUALIZED.



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