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Smoking Poems

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

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



SMOKING AWAY.








Floating away like the fountains' spray,
Or the snow-white plume of a maiden,
The smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies
With blissful fragrance laden.

_Chorus._ Then smoke away till a golden ray
Lights up the dawn of the morrow,
For a cheerful cigar, like a shield, will bar,
The blows of care and sorrow.

The leaf burns bright, like the gems of light
That flash in the braids of Beauty;
It nerves each heart for the hero's part
On the battle-plain of duty.

In the thoughtful gloom of his darkened room,
Sits the child of song and story,
But his heart is light, for his pipe burns bright,
And his dreams are all of glory.

By the blazing fire sits the gray-haired sire,
And infant arras surround him;
And he smiles on all in that quaint old hall,
While the smoke-curls float around him.

In the forest grand of our native land,
When the savage conflict ended,
The "pipe of peace" brought a sweet release
From toil and terror blended.

The dark-eyed train of the maids of Spain
'Neath their arbor shades trip lightly,
And a gleaming cigar, like a new-born star,
In the clasp of their lips burns brightly

It warms the soul like the blushing bowl,
With its rose-red burden streaming,
And drowns it in bliss, like the first warm kiss
From the lips with love-buds teeming.

FRANCIS MILES FINCH.





Next: A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.

Previous: SUBLIME TOBACCO.



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