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Smoking Poems

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

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

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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



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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