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Smoking Poems

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

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

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...



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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