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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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



"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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