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Smoking Poems

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

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

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

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

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...



A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Let the learned talk of books,
The glutton of cooks,
The lover of Celia's soft smack--O!
No mortal can boast
So noble a toast
As a pipe of accepted tobacco.

Let the soldier for fame,
And a general's name,
In battle get many a thwack--O!
Let who will have most,
Who will rule the rooste,
Give me but a pipe of tobacco.

Tobacco gives wit
To the dullest old cit,
And makes him of politics crack--O!
The lawyers i' the hall
Were not able to bawl,
Were it not for a whiff of tobacco.

The man whose chief glory
Is telling a story,
Had never arrived at the smack--O!
Between ever heying,
And as I was saying,
Did he not take a whiff of tobacco.

The doctor who places
Much skill in grimaces,
And feels your pulse running tic-tack--O!
Would you know his chief skill?
It is only to fill
And smoke a good pipe of tobacco.

The courtiers alone
To this weed are not prone;
Would you know what 'tis makes them so slack--O?
'Twas because it inclined
To be honest the mind,
And therefore they banished tobacco.





Next: HENRY FIELDING.

Previous: AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.



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