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Smoking Poems

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

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

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...



SMOKE AND CHESS.








We were sitting at chess as the sun went down;
And he, from his meerschaum's glossy brown,
With a ring of smoke made his king a crown.

The cherry stem, with its amber tip,
Thoughtfully rested on his lip,
As the goblet's rim from which heroes sip.

And, looking out through the early green,
He called on his patron saint, I ween,--
That misty maiden, Saint Nicotine,--

While ever rested that crown so fair,
Poised in the warm and pulseless air,
On the carven chessman's ivory hair.

Dreamily wandered the game along,
Quietly moving at even-song,
While the striving kings stood firm and strong,

Until that one which of late was crowned
Flinched from a knight's determined bound,
And in sullen majesty left the ground,

Reeling back; and it came to pass
That, waiting to mutter no funeral mass,
A bishop had dealt him the _coup de grace_.

And so, as we sat, we reasoned still
Of fate and of fortune, of human will,
And what are the purposes men fulfil.

For we see at last, when the truth arrives,
The moves on the chess-board of our lives,--
That fields may be lost, though the king survives.

Not always he whom the world reveres
Merits its honor or wins its cheers,
Standing the best at the end of the years.

Not always he who has lost the fight
Rises again with the coming light,
Battles anew for his ancient right.

SAMUEL W. DUFFIELD.





Next: INSCRIPTION FOR A TOBACCO JAR.

Previous: SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.



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