Election Game.ca - Watch as a federal election campaign unfolds in real time Visit Election Game.caInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

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

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

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

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

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



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 del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 2583