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Smoking Poems

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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



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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