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Smoking Poems

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

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



CIGARETTE RINGS.








How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night;
I'm too sleepy to read and too lazy to write;
So I'll watch the blue rings, as they eddy and twirl,
And in gossamer wreathings coquettishly curl.
In the stillness of night and the sparseness of chimes
There's a fleetness in fancy, a frolic in rhymes;
There's a world of romance that persistently clings
To the azurine curving of Cigarette Rings!

What a picture comes back from the passed-away times!
They are lounging once more 'neath the sweet-scented limes;
See how closely he watches the Queen of Coquettes,
As her white hands roll deftly those small cigarettes!
He believes in her smiles and puts faith in her sighs
While he's dazzled by light from her fathomless eyes.
Ah, the dearest of voices delightfully sings
Through the wind intertwining of Cigarette Rings!

How sweet was her song in the bright summer-time,
When winds whispered low 'neath the tremulous lime!
How sweet, too, that bunch of forget-me-nots blue--
The love he thought lasting, the words he thought true!
_Ah, the words of a woman concerning such things_
_Are weak and unstable as Cigarette Rings!_

J. ASHBY-STERRY.





Next: SMOKING SPIRITUALIZED.

Previous: SWEET SMOKING PIPE.



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