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Smoking Poems

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...



A POET'S PIPE.








_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._


A poet's pipe am I,
And my Abyssinian tint
Is an unmistakable hint
That he lays me not often by.
When his soul is with grief o'erworn
I smoke like the cottage where
They are cooking the evening fare
For the laborer's return.

I enfold and cradle his soul
In the vapors moving and blue
That mount from my fiery mouth;
And there is power in my bowl
To charm his spirit and soothe,
And heal his weariness too.

RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD.





Next: MY CIGAR.

Previous: WITH PIPE AND BOOK.



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