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Smoking Poems

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

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

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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



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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