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Smoking Poems

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

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

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...



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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