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Smoking Poems

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

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

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

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

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



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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