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Smoking Poems

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

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

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...



"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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