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Smoking Poems

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...



THE FARMER'S PIPE.








Make a picture, dreamy smoke,
In my still and cosey room;
From the fading past evoke
Forms that breathe of summer's bloom.

Bashful Will and rosy Nell--
Ah, I watch them now at play
By the mossy wayside well
As I did twelve years to-day.

We were younger then, my pipe:
You are dingy now and worn;
And my fruit is more than ripe,
And my fields are brown and shorn.

Nell has merry eyes of blue,
And is timid, pure, and mild;
Will is fair and brave and true,
And a neighboring farmer's child.

Little maid is busy, too,
Making rare, fictitious pies,
Just as any wife would do,
Looking, meanwhile, wondrous wise.

Drawing water from the well,
Delving sand upon the hill,
Going here and there for Nell,--
That's her helpmate, willing Will.

Yonder, in the waning light,
Hand in hand the truants come,
Nell so fearful lest the night
Should fall around her far from home.

Fading, fading, skyward flies
This joy-picture you have limned;
Pipe of mine, the quiet skies
Of my life you leave undimmed.

Nell and Will are lovers now;
There they stray in dying light.
That's a kiss! Ah, well, somehow
Nell's no more afraid at night!

GEORGE COOPER.





Next: SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.

Previous: MY PIPE.



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