WITH my cigar I sit alone, Alone in twilight's undertone, With wav'ring shadows growing deep, While long-forgotten faces peep Midst curling mists of smoke, now blown Into a frame that doth enthrone A face that from my heart hath grown. Sweet mem'ries o'er my being creep, With my cigar. Those hazel eyes on me have shone, Those roguish lips have pressed my own, And this the harvest that I reap! And this the sweetness that I keep, To wake, to find the vision flown With my cigar! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE GO THE BOATS? by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SAINT AGNES' EVE by ALFRED TENNYSON PICTURESQUE; A FRAGMENT by JOHN AIKIN THE LOST LADY: SONG by WILLIAM BERKLEY THE FRATERNAL DUEL by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS A GOTHAMITE IN CAMELOT by BERTON BRALEY |