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Smoking Poems

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

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

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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



TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.








Betty bouncer kept a stall
At the corner of a street,
And she had a smile for all.
Many were the friends she'd greet
With kindly nod on passing by,
Who, smiling, saw her pipe awry.

Poor old lass! she loved her pipe,
A constant friend it seemed to be;
As she sold her apples ripe,
With an apple on each knee,
How she'd make the smoke-wreaths fly,
As I've watched her pipe awry!

Seasons came and seasons went,
Only changing Betty's store;
Youngsters with her always spent
Their little all and wished they'd more:
Timidly with upturned eye
Staring at her pipe awry.

Bet was always at her post
Early morn or even late;
Ginger beer or chestnut roast,
Served she as she sat in state,
On two bushel-baskets high;
You should have seen her pipe awry!

Little care old Betty had,
She quietly jogged on her way;
Never did her face look sad.
Although she fumed the livelong day.
Guiltless seemed she of a sigh.
I never saw her pipe her eye!

C.F.




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Previous: HE RESPONDETH.



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