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Smoking Poems

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...



IN WREATHS OF SMOKE.








In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise,
Faces of olden days uprise,
And in his dreamers revery
They haunt the smoker's brain, and he
Breathes for the past regretful sighs.

Mem'ries of maids, with azure eyes,
In dewy dells, 'neath June's soft skies,
Faces that more he'll only see
In wreaths of smoke.

Eheu, eheu! how fast Time flies,--
How youth-time passion droops and dies,
And all the countless visions flee!
How worn would all those faces be,
Were they not swathed in soft disguise
In wreaths of smoke!

FRANK NEWTON HOLMAN.





Next: ASHES.

Previous: ANOTHER MATCH.



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