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Smoking Poems

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

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

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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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



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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