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Smoking Poems

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

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

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

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

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, 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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