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Smoking Poems

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

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

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

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

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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



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.





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Previous: ANOTHER MATCH.



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