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Smoking Poems

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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



THE LOST LOTUS.








'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East,
There dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours
Passed like the vision of a royal feast,
By Nero given in the Baian bowers;
Thanks to the lotus-blossom spell,
Their lives were one long miracle.

In after years the passing sons of men
Looked for those lotus blossoms all in vain,
Through every hillside, glade, and glen
And e'en the isles of many a main;
Yet through the centuries some doom,
Forbade them see the lotus bloom.

The Old World wearied of the long pursuit,
And called the sacred leaf a poet's theme,
When lo! the New World, rich in flower and fruit,
Revealed the lotus, lovelier than the dream
That races of the long past days did haunt,--
The green-leaved, amber-tipped tobacco plant.

ANON.




Next: THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR.

Previous: EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER.



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