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Smoking Poems

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

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

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

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

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

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

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

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



"A FREE PUFF."








Do you remember when first we met?
I was turning twenty--well! I don't forget
How I walked along,
Humming a song
Across the fields and down the lane
By the country road, and back again
To the dear old farm--three miles or more--
And brought you home from the village store.

Summer was passing--don't you recall
The splendid harvest we had that Fall,
And how when the Autumn died,--sober and brown,--
We trudged down the turnpike, and on to the town?

Sweet black brierwood pipe of mine!
If you were human you'd be half divine,
For when I've looked beyond the smoke, into your burning bowl
In times of need
You've been, indeed,
The only comfort, sweetest solace, of my overflowing soul.
We've been together nearly thirty years, old fellow!
And now, you must admit, we're both a trifle mellow.
We have had our share of joys and a deal of sorrows,
And while we're only waiting for a few more to-morrows,
Others will come, and others will go,
And Time will gather what Youth will sow;
But we together will go down the rough
Road to the end, and to the end--puff.

ARTHUR IRVING GRAY.





Next: MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.

Previous: WRONGFELLOW.



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