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Smoking Poems

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

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

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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



"KEATS TOOK SNUFF."








"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the
praise-worthy editorial research of Mr. Burton Forman."


So "Keats took snuff?" A few more years,
When we are dead and famous--eh?
Will they record our pipes and beers,
And if we smoked cigars or clay?
Or will the world cry "Quantum suff"
To tattle such as "Keats took snuff"?

Perhaps some chronicler would wish
To know what whiskey we preferred,
And if we ever dined on fish,
Or only took the joint and bird.
Such facts are quite as worthy stuff,
Good chronicler, as "Keats took snuff."

You answer: "But, if you were Keats--"
Tut! never mind your buts and ifs,
Of little men record their meats,
Their drinks, their troubles, and their tiffs,
Of the great dead there's gold enough
To spare us such as "Keats took snuff."

Well, go your ways, you little folk,
Who polish up the great folk's lives;
Record the follies that they spoke,
And paint their squabbles with their wives.
Somewhere, if ever ghosts be gruff,
I trust some Keats will "give you snuff."

_The Globe_, London.





Next: THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.

Previous: THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.



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