Explore "Smoke" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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 (don'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 don'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.