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Smoking Poems

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

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

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...



VIRGINIA TOBACCO.








Two maiden dames of sixty-two
Together long had dwelt;
Neither, alas! of love so true
The bitter pang had felt.

But age comes on, they say, apace,
To warn us of our death,
And wrinkles mar the fairest face,--
At last it stops our breath.

One of these dames tormented sore
With that curst pang, toothache,
Was at a loss for such a bore
What remedy to take.

"I've heard," thought she, "this ill to cure,
A pipe is good, they say.
Well then, tobacco I'll endure,
And smoke the pain away."

The pipe was lit, the tooth soon well,
And she retired to rest,
When then the other ancient belle
Her spinster maid addressed,--

"Let me request a favor, pray"--
"I'll do it if I can"--
"Oh! well, then, love, smoke every day,
_You smell so like a man!_"

Attributed to JOHN STANLEY GREGSON.





Next: AN ODE OF THANKS FOR CERTAIN CIGARS.

Previous: INVOCATION TO TOBACCO.



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