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Smoking Poems

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

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...



SIC TRANSIT.








Just a note that I found on my table,
By the bills of a year buried o'er,
In a feminine hand and requesting
My presence for tennis at four.

Half remorseful for leaving it lying
In surroundings unworthy as those,
I carefully dusted and smoothed it,
And mutely begged pardon of Rose.

But I thought with a smile of the proverb
Which says you may treat as you will
The vase which has once contained roses,
Their fragrance will cling to it still.

For the writer I scarcely remember,
The occasion has vanished afar,
And the fragrance that clings to the letter
Recalls--an Havana cigar.

W.B. ANDERSON.





Next: THE BETROTHED.

Previous: MY PIPE AND I.



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