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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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



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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