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Smoking Poems

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

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

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

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

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

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

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...



'TWAS OFF THE BLUE CANARIES.








'Twas off the blue Canary isles,
A glorious summer day,
I sat upon the quarter deck,
And whiffed my cares away;
And as the volumed smoke arose,
Like incense in the air,
I breathed a sigh to think, in sooth,
It was my last cigar.

I leaned upon the quarter rail,
And looked down in the sea;
E'en there the purple wreath of smoke,
Was curling gracefully;
Oh! what had I at such a time
To do with wasting care?
Alas! the trembling tear proclaimed
It was my last cigar.

I watched the ashes as it came
Fast drawing toward the end;
I watched it as a friend would watch
Beside a dying friend;
But still the flame swept slowly on;
It vanished into air;
I threw it from me,--spare the tale,--
It was my last cigar.

I've seen the land of all I love
Fade in the distance dim;
I've watched above the blighted heart,
Where once proud hope hath been;
But I've never known a sorrow
That could with that compare,
When off the blue Canaries
I smoked my last cigar.

JOSEPH WARREN FABENS.





Next: LATAKIA.

Previous: MY LITTLE BROWN PIPE.



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