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Smoking Poems

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...



THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR.








What is it comes through the deepening dusk,--
Something sweeter than jasmine scent,
Sweeter than rose and violet blent,
More potent in power than orange or musk?
The scent of a good cigar.

I am all alone in my quiet room,
And the windows are open wide and free
To let in the south wind's kiss for me,
While I rock in the softly gathering gloom,
And that subtle fragrance steals.

Just as a loving, tender hand
Will sometimes steal in yours,
It softly comes through the open doors,
And memory wakes at its command,--
The scent of that good cigar.

And what does it say? Ah! that's for me
And my heart alone to know;
But that heart thrills with a sudden glow,
Tears fill my eyes till I cannot see,--
From the scent of that good cigar.

KATE A. CARRINGTON.





Next: TO MY CIGAR.

Previous: THE LOST LOTUS.



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