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Smoking Poems

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

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

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

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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



MY PIPE AND I.








There may be comrades in this world,
As stanch and true as steel.
There are: and by their friendships firm
Is life made only real.
But, after all, of all these hearts
That close with mine entwine,
None lie so near, nor seem so dear
As this old pipe of mine.

My silent friend--whose voice is held
Fast for my ear alone--
Stays with me always, well content,
With Darby to be Joan.
No fickleness disturbs our lot;
No jars its peace to smother;
Ah, no; my faithful pipe and I
Have wooed and won--each other.

On clouds of curling incense sweet,
We go--my pipe and I--
To lands far off, where skies stay blue
Through all the years that fly.
And nights and days, with rosy dreams
Teems bright--an endless throng
That passing leave, in echoing wake,
Soft murmurings of song.

Does this dream fade? Another comes
To fill its place and more.
In castles silvern roam we now,
They're ours! All! All are ours!
What'er the wreathing rings enfold
Drops shimmering golden showers!

No sordid cost our steps can stay,
We travel free as air.
Our wings are fancies, incense-borne,
That feather-light upbear.
Begone! ye powers of steam and flood.
Thy roads creep far too slow;
We need thee not. My pipe and I
Swifter than Time must go.

Why, what is this? The pipe gone out?
Well, well, the fire's out, too!
The dreams are gone--we're poor once more;
Life's pain begins anew.
'Tis time for sleep, my faithful pipe,
But may thy dreamings be,
Through slumbering hours hued as bright
As those thou gav'st to me!

ELTON J. BUCKLEY.





Next: SIC TRANSIT.

Previous: A WINTER EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE.



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