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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...



VIRGINIA TOBACCO.








Two maiden dames of sixty-two
Together long had dwelt;
Neither, alas! of love so true
The bitter pang had felt.

But age comes on, they say, apace,
To warn us of our death,
And wrinkles mar the fairest face,--
At last it stops our breath.

One of these dames tormented sore
With that curst pang, toothache,
Was at a loss for such a bore
What remedy to take.

"I've heard," thought she, "this ill to cure,
A pipe is good, they say.
Well then, tobacco I'll endure,
And smoke the pain away."

The pipe was lit, the tooth soon well,
And she retired to rest,
When then the other ancient belle
Her spinster maid addressed,--

"Let me request a favor, pray"--
"I'll do it if I can"--
"Oh! well, then, love, smoke every day,
_You smell so like a man!_"

Attributed to JOHN STANLEY GREGSON.




Next: AN ODE OF THANKS FOR CERTAIN CIGARS.

Previous: INVOCATION TO TOBACCO.



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