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Smoking Poems

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

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



HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE.








Like raven's wings her locks of jet,
Her soft eyes touched with fond regret,
Doubt and desire her mind beset,
Fondling her brother's cigarette.

Roses with dewy diamonds set,
Drooped o'er the window's parapet;
With grace she turned a match to get,
And lit her brother's cigarette.

Her puffs of smoky violet
Twined in fantastic silhouette;
She blushed, laughed, coughed a little, yet,
She smoked her brother's cigarette.

Her eyes with briny tears were wet,
Her bang grew limp beneath its net,
Her brow was gemmed with beaded sweat,
And to her bed she went, you bet.

ANON.




Next: IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.

Previous: HOW IT ONCE WAS.



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