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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...



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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