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Smoking Poems

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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



PIPE AND TOBACCO.








When my pipe burns bright and clear,
The gods I need not envy here;
And as the smoke fades in the wind,
Our fleeting life it brings to mind.

Noble weed! that comforts life,
And art with calmest pleasures rife;
Heaven grant thee sunshine and warm rain,
And to thy planter health and gain.

Through thee, friend of my solitude,
With hope and patience I'm endued,
Deep sinks thy power within my heart,
And cares and sorrows all depart.

Then let non-smokers rail forever;
Shall their hard words true friends dissever?
Pleasure's too rare to cast away
My pipe, for what the railers say!

When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me,
When friends are fled, thy presence charms me;
If thou art full, though purse be bare,
I smoke, and cast away all care!

_German Folk Song._





Next: THE LATEST CONVERT.
Previous: THE CIGAR.




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