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Smoking Poems

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...



A WINTER EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE.








Nicotia, dearer to the Muse
Than all the grape's bewildering juice,
We worship, unforbid of thee;
And as her incense floats and curls
In airy spires and wayward whirls,
Or poises on its tremulous stalk
A flower of frailest reverie,
So winds and loiters, idly free,
The current of unguided talk,
Now laughter-rippled, and now caught
In smooth dark pools of deeper thought
Meanwhile thou mellowest every word,
A sweetly unobtrusive third;
For thou hast magic beyond wine
To unlock natures each to each;
The unspoken thought thou canst divine;
Thou fill'st the pauses of the speech
With whispers that to dreamland reach,
And frozen fancy-springs unchain
In Arctic outskirts of the brain.
Sun of all inmost confidences,
To thy rays doth the heart unclose
Its formal calyx of pretences,
That close against rude day's offences,
And open its shy midnight rose!

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.





Next: MY PIPE AND I.

Previous: A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.



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