O DWELLERS OF MY PARADISE! With the hands of loving-kindness I have planted in the holy garden of paradise the young tree of your love and friendship, and have watered it with the goodly showers of My tender grace; now that the hour of its fr... Read more of 34: O Dwellers Of My Paradise! With The Hands Of Loving-kindness I Have at Bahaullah.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

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

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

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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



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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