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Smoking Poems

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...



VIRGINIA'S KINGLY PLANT.








_BY AN "OLD SALT."_


Oh, muse! grant me the power
(I have the will) to sing
How oft in lonely hour,
When storms would round me lower,
Tobacco's proved a king!

Philanthropists, no doubt
With good intentions ripe,
Their dogmas may put out,
And arrogantly shout
The evils of the pipe.

Kind moralists, with tracts,
Opinions fine may show;
Produce a thousand facts,--
How ill tobacco acts
Man's system to o'erthrow.

Learn'd doctors have employed
Much patience, time, and skill,
To prove tobacco cloyed
With acrid alkaloid,
With power the nerves to kill.

E'en popes have curst the plant;
Kings bade its use to cease;
But all the pontiff's rant
And royal James's cant
Ne'er made its use decrease.

Teetotalers may stamp
And roar at pipes and beer;
But place them in a swamp,
When nights are dark and damp,--
Their tunes would change, I fear.

No advocate am I
Of excess in one or t'other,
And ne'er essayed to try
In wine to drown a sigh,
Or a single care to smother.

Yet, in moderation pure,
A glass is well enough;
But a troubled heart to cure,
Kind feelings to insure,
Give me a cheerful puff.

How oft a learn'd divine
His sermons will prepare,
Not by imbibing wine,
But 'neath th' influence fine
Of a pipe of "baccy" rare!

How many a pleasing scene,
How many a happy joke,
How many a satire keen,
Or problem sharp, has been
Evolved or born of smoke!

How oft amidst the jar,
Of storms on ruin bent,
On shipboard, near or far,
To the drenched and shiv'ring tar,
Tobacco's solace lent!

Oh, tell me not 'tis bad,
Or that it shortens life!
Its charms can soothe the sad,
And make the wretched glad,
In trouble and in strife.

'Tis used in every clime,
By all men, high and low;
It is praised in prose and rhyme,
And can but end with time;
So let the kind herb grow!

'Tis a friend to the distress'd;
'Tis a comforter in need;
It is social, soothing, blest;
It has fragrance, force, and zest;
Then hail the kingly weed!

ANON.





Next: TOO GREAT A SACRIFICE.

Previous: TOBACCO.



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