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Smoking Poems

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

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

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

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



A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE.








Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig,
Ne'er deemed the smoke-cloud _infra dig._,
In which you could not see his wig,
Involved in clouds of smoke.

Quaint Lamb his wit would oft enshroud
In smoke-igniting laughter loud,
Like summer thunder in the cloud,--
The lightning in the smoke.

Dean Swift "died at the top;" his head
Had drifting clouds when wit had fled:
Dull care lurked in his brain, instead
Of blowing out in smoke.

And Cowper mild--no smoker he,
Bard of the sofa and bohea--
Complained his "dear friend Bull" not free
From lowering Stygian smoke.

Clouds in his non-inebriate nob
Were doomed the tea tables to rob,
Inflicting many a painful throb
On one who could not smoke!

Smoke on! it is the steam of life,
The smoother of the waves of strife;
Where chimneys smoke, or scolds the wife,
The counteraction--smoke.

We ride and work and weave by steam,
Till ages past seem like a dream
In a new world whose dawning beam
Is redolent of smoke.

We travel like a comet wild
On which some distant sun had smiled,
And from his orbit thus beguiled
With a long tail of smoke.

The clouds arise from smoking seas,
And give, with each conveying breeze,
Life to the "weed," and herbs, and trees,
Which turn again to smoke.

All nations smoke! Havana's pother
Smokes friendly with its Broseley brother:
The world's one end puffs to the other,
In amicable smoke.

When plague and pestilence go forth,
And to diseases dire give birth,
Which walk in darkness through the earth,
I clothe myself in smoke.

I smoke through desolating years,
Tabooed from fever, void of fears,
And when some dreaded pest appears,
I call in Doctor Smoke.

Go, reader! perfume ladies' hair
And scent the ringlets of the fair
With eau Cologne and odors rare
Aloof from healthy smoke.

Go babble at the ball and rout,
And smirk with high-born dames who doubt:
Thy flames are quenched, thy fires are out,
And sinking into smoke.

"Better," said Johnson, great in name,
"It were, when poets droop in fame,
To see smoke brighten into flame,
Than flames sink into smoke."

SELIM: _Eclectic Magazine_.





Next: A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE.

Previous: THE SMOKER'S REVERIE.



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