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Smoking Poems

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

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

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

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...



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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