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1850–1919

SMOKE

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Last summer, lazing by the sea, I met a most entrancing creature, Her black eyes quite bewildered me — She had a Spanish cast of feature.

She often smoked a cigarette, And did it in the cutest fashion. Before a week passed by she set My young heart in a raging passion.

I swore I loved her as my life, I gave her gems ( do n't tell my tailor ). She promised to become my wife, But whispered,‘ Papa is my jailer.’

‘ We must be very sly, you see, For Papa will not list to reason. You must not come to call on me Until he's gone from home a season.

‘ I'll send you word, now do n't forget, Take this as pledge, I will remember.’ She gave me a perfumed cigarette, And turned and left me with September.

To-day she sent her‘ cards’ to me. ‘ My presence asked’ to see her marry That millionaire old banker C — - She has my‘ presents,’ so I'll tarry.

And still I feel a keen regret ( About the jewels that I gave her ) I've smoked the little cigarette — It had a most delicious flavour.

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SMOKE · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove