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Various

"Pipe and Pouch The Smoker's Own Book of Poetry"


Will it see me safe through my journey, or leave me bogged in the
mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful
fire?
Open the old cigar-box,--let me consider anew,--
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon _you_?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba: I hold to my first-sworn vows,
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for spouse!
RUDYARD KIPLING.


ON A BROKEN PIPE.

Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form,
So late with living inspirations warm;
Type of all other creatures formed of clay--
What more than it for epitaph have they?


A VALENTINE.

What's my love's name? Guess her name.
Nina? No.
Alina? No.
It does end with "ina," though.
Guess again. Christina? No;
Guess again. Wilhelmina? No.
She reciprocates my flame,
Cheers me wheresoe'er I go,
Never forward, never coy,
She is evermore my joy.
Oh, the rapture! oh, the bliss!
When I met my darling's kiss.
Oh, I love her form to greet!
Oh, her breath is passing sweet!
Who could help but love her so?
Nicotina, mistress mine,
Thou shall be my Valentine.


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