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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...



SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.








_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._


Not like clouds that cap the mountains,
Not like mists that mask the sea,
Not like vapors round the fountains,--
Soft and clear and warm are we.

Hear the tempest, how its minions
Tear the clouds and heap the snows!
No storm-rage is in our pinions;
Who knows us, 'tis peace he knows.

Soaring from the burning censers,
Stealing forth through all the air,
Hovering as the mild dispensers
Over you of blisses rare,

Softly float we, softly blend we,
Tinted from the deep blue sky,
Scented from the myrrh-lands, bend we
Downward to you ere we die.

Ease we bring, and airy fancies,
Sober thoughts with visions gay,
Peace profound with daring glances
Through the clouds to endless day.

Not like clouds that cap the mountains,
Not like mists that mask the sea,
Not like vapors round the fountains,--
Soft and clear and warm are we.

L.T.A., in _London Society_.





Next: SMOKE AND CHESS.

Previous: THE FARMER'S PIPE.



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