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Smoking Poems

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

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

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...



"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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