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Smoking Poems

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...



"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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