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Smoking Poems

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

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

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

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

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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



"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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