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Smoking Poems

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

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 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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