Here is a little tangle that is perpetually cropping up in various guises. A cyclist bought a bicycle for L15 and gave in payment a cheque for L25. The seller went to a neighbouring shopkeeper and got him to change the cheque for him, and the cycl... Read more of THE BICYCLE THIEF. at Math Puzzle.caInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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



A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY.








I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire,
I ne'er knew the Benedict's yoke;
I worship a fairy-like, fanciful form,
That goes up the chimney in smoke.

I sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease,
Without wife or bairns to provoke,
And puff at my pipe, while my hopes and my fears
All go up the chimney in smoke.

I sit with my pipe, and my heart's lonesome care
I try, but all vainly, to choke.
Ah, me! but I find that the flame that Love lights
Won't go up the chimney in smoke.

_Cigar and Tobacco World_, London.





Next: THE DREAMER'S PIPE.

Previous: ODE TO TOBACCO.



Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
ADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 3949