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Smoking Poems

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...



SMOKING SONG.








With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl,
As mist from the waterfall given,
Or the locks that float round beauty's throat
In the whispering air of even.

_Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years,
And the dread of change before us;
The way is sweet to our willing feet,
With the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us.

As the light beams through the ringlets blue,
Will hope beam through our sorrow,
While the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe
Shuts out the fear of to-morrow.

A magic charm in the evening calm
Calls thought from mem'ry's treasure;
But clear and bright in the liquid light
Are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure.

Then who shall chide, with boasting pride,
Delights they ne'er have tasted?
Oh, let them smile while we beguile
The hour with joys they've wasted.

_College Song._





Next: HOW IT ONCE WAS.

Previous: THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.



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