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Smoking Poems

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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

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

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...



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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