Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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