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Smoking Poems

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

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

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

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

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...



"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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