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Smoking Poems

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

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

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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



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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