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Smoking Poems

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

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

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

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...



"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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